


Wait For Me

by StrixDragon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, game of thrones
Genre: Evil Bran Stark, F/M, happy ending for most of the characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 35
Words: 44,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28877451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrixDragon/pseuds/StrixDragon
Summary: My love letter to the character of Daenerys Targaryen.This is a re-imagining of season 8; Daenerys Targaryen comes to the North and is worried they won't accept her. Underneath his placid face, Bran Stark plots. Jon Snow learns a truth that will change his life forever.Will the Dragon and the Wolves unite as one to defeat the Others and bring the Dawn, or will the Night King prevail?
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark
Comments: 49
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first complete fan fiction in years. I have been working on this on and off since the series finale; I decided to write my take on how I feel the series should end.
> 
> I wrote this for me, first and foremost, as a love letter to my absolute favorite character Daenerys Targaryen and my favorite actress Emilia Clarke. Dany deserved better and she gets her happy ending here. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this tale as much as I enjoyed writing it.

_Wait for me, I'm coming  
Wait, I'm coming with you  
Wait for me, I'm coming too  
I hear the walls repeating  
The falling of my feet and  
It sounds like drumming  
And I am not alone  
I hear the rocks and stone  
Echoing my song_ Wait For Me," Hadestown

Daenerys Targaryen sighed as she woke up in her cold chambers in Winterfell, thinking about how much it reminded her of the chilly reception she received when she first arrived in the North.

Jon had warned her that the Northerners were stubborn and xenophobic, but she had no idea that they were this bad. 

She sighed as Missandei opened the door, greeted her and began to braid her hair into the intricate knots that she always wore. 

_‘I am the blood of the dragon, and I will win these Northerners over. I have a plan.’_ Dany thought, studying her reflection in the mirror as she got dressed in a long red tunic with a black coat that had the sigil of House Targaryen embroidered on the back.

“Missandei, please ask the Ladies Sansa and Arya Stark if they would take the time out to have a private discussion today. I have a plan I wish to speak to them about—tell them it concerns the battle of Winterfell.”

“Yes, my Queen.” Missandei curtsied and exited the room. She returned a bit later with the news that Sansa and Arya would be able to speak with her in an hour in Sansa’s chamber.

Daenerys took a deep breath once she heard the news and sat down to discuss with Missandei how best to pitch her idea to the wary she-wolves of Winterfell.


	2. Chapter 2

“Sit down, your Grace. I had lemon cakes and mint tea brought for this occasion.” Sansa Stark said when Daenerys entered her chambers. Her smile was wide, but her eyes were chilly.

Daenerys inwardly took a deep breath and gave a warm smile back to the Lady of Winterfell. 

“Thank you, Lady Sansa. They look delicious.” She said as she sat down in a chair across from the icy redhead. “And where is your sister, the Lady Arya?”

“I am not a lady!” An indignant voice echoed from a shadowy corner.

Arya Stark stepped out and sat down next to Daenerys, who chuckled at Jon’s feisty younger sister. “Just call me Arya.”

“My apologies, Arya. And you may call me Daenerys, of course.”

Arya put her elbows on the table and stared at Daenerys intently, her grey eyes scrutinizing her. 

“So, what did you call us here to talk about?” she asked bluntly.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Daenerys saw Sansa inhale sharply—likely because she was afraid that Arya had pushed her luck and was going to anger the Dragon Queen, with whom they were already on thin ice. 

She gave a tentative smile towards the feisty brunette. “I will speak bluntly. The army of the Dead is coming, and I think it is imperative that I take lessons from you Arya. I know a little bit of basic self-defense skills thanks to Ser Jorah and Grey Worm, but I would like to be prepared for every eventuality. I would also be grateful if the Lady Sansa would join me—if she wants to, of course.”

Arya raised one dark eyebrow and her face showed nothing, but Daenerys got the feeling that she was impressed by her request.

“If I may speak frankly, I know the two of you don’t trust me. I don’t blame you for that. I too have been through hell and back and been betrayed more times than I can count; in your shoes, I would be wary and cautious too. I offer this as a way for us to get to know each other better—after all, if we’re going to work together to defeat the army of the dead, we’re going to have to be at least on fairly friendly terms. I don’t expect us to become best friends, but I would like to prove to the two of you that I respect you, that I respect the North and your people.”

Given the shocked look that briefly flashed across Sansa’s face, Daenerys was pretty sure that if Jon’s sister was one of the smallfolk, her jaw would be open wide enough to catch flies. 

Then her ice-cold mask descended once again, but Daenerys inwardly grinned at her response.

“I am afraid that I am not a warrior, Your Grace.” Sansa pointed out.

Daenerys looked at her. “Maybe not. But I still think it is good for the two of us to at least have some rudimentary skills, just in case. After all, it is better to be safe rather than sorry, is it not?”

“I think it is a good idea, Sansa.” Arya interjected quietly. “The Others are deadly. I would feel much better knowing that you at least knew how to stab ‘em with the pointy end.”

Sansa looked at her little sister for a few long moments and then back to Daenerys. 

“I suppose I cannot argue with that logic. When should we begin?”

Arya grinned before standing up from her chair and turning to go. “First thing tomorrow. Make sure to wear pants.”

Sansa gave a groan as Daenerys stood up to leave. 

“Pants! I suppose I can borrow some of Robb’s, they’re still hidden in his wardrobe. Ramsey never tossed them out.”

The Dragon Queen smiled at the Lady of Winterfell before she left. “Pants are actually quite comfortable. I can tell the two of you horror stories about some of the fashions I encountered in Essos though.”

Despite her wariness of the Targaryen queen, Sansa couldn’t help but laugh at that statement. “I look forward to hearing it, Your Grace. I will see you during the strategy planning later on.”


	3. Chapter 3

During the meeting in which Daenerys, Jon, Sansa and the rest met in order to discuss how they might best defend Winterfell and defeat the Others, the usually emotionless Bran perked up for a brief moment.

“We need to be ready. We will have visitors in another day or two.”

Jon, Daenerys and Sansa looked at each other, confusion plastered all over their faces.

“Who, Bran?” Sansa asked gently, but he simply shook his head and refused to speak any further. 

Daenerys eyed him warily; there was something incredibly unsettling about Jon’s youngest brother that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to make room for another guest or two.” Tyrion tried to ease the tension in the air by cracking a joke. “More mouths to feed, eh, my Lady? Good thing we brought plenty of food from Essos.”

Tyrion’s gentle teasing worked; Sansa chuckled at his comment.

“Oh joy.” She said dryly, but Daenerys could tell by the warmth in her eyes that she was resigned to this fact and wasn’t truly angry.

Sam Tarly wheeled Bran out of the room as the members of the war council started leaving.

Instead of ignoring her completely, Daenerys was pleasantly surprised to see that both Sansa and Arya had wished her good night before they left.

Now, it was only Jon and Daenerys. 

He started at his two sisters in shock as they left and turned around, a smile growing on his face. “They seem friendlier to you.”

“They do. I asked Arya to teach me the basics of sword fighting.” Daenerys said calmly, inwardly amused at how Jon’s eyes almost bugged out of his head.

“You did what now?”

“I asked Arya to teach me how to defend myself, and I asked if Sansa would like to join us.” 

She struggled to keep her composure, but it was difficult given the fact that Jon was staring at her as if she had three heads.

“What did they say?” He choked out.

She shrugged. “Arya agreed. I was blunt, I will admit it. I know your sisters are incredibly wary of me, and I decided to try a different tactic. Instead of being imperious and scaring the living daylights out of them, I decided to be honest and try to reach out with an olive branch. It seems as if that was the correct way to go, since our lessons begin tomorrow an hour after breakfast.”

Jon stared at her. “You…you are a force of nature, do you know that?” He smiled at her.

Daenerys gave him a cheeky smile in return. “I try. Now, it is growing late and you—as well as your Queen—should probably try and get some sleep. Let’s go to bed, my love.” 

She grabbed his rough, calloused hand and led him out of the war room towards her chambers.


	4. Chapter 4

Daenerys eagerly wolfed down her breakfast and hurried to her chambers in order to prepare for her training lessons with Arya and Sansa. 

Missandei helped her put her long hair into a simple braid and she donned black pants and a long-sleeved black tunic designed to keep the winter’s chill off of her skin.

Missandei seemed to sense her queen’s nervousness and excitement, so she wisely made small talk when Daenerys was getting ready so that the petite woman could have time to clear her thoughts and take a few calming breaths.

She entered the courtyard to find Arya clad in her usual warrior’s attire and Sansa standing awkwardly next to her little sister, clearly uncomfortable in the black pants and heavy grey shirt she wore.

Like Daenerys, the redhead had put her hair back and out of her face by using a braid.

“First things first…”Arya gave her sister and the Dragon Queen a mischievous grin. “Stick ‘em with the pointy end.” 

With that, she tossed two practice swords at them.

Daenerys had quick reflexes honed from years of running from assassins and she clumsily caught it just in time before it hit her on the head.

Sansa tried to catch it in time, but she missed and it clattered to the floor. 

Arya rolled her eyes. “Sister dearest, you need to catch the bloody sword.”

The red-haired she-wolf bristled. “Well, maybe next time you can give me a warning when you want me to catch a bloody sword!”

Arya raised one eyebrow at her sister and stared at her as if she was simple-minded. “Will your enemies give you fair warning?”

“No.” Sansa sighed, realizing her sister’s point. “Fine, message received. Now, how do we begin?”

The younger Stark sister gave a wicked grin as she walked around the two older women in a circle. “Like this…..”

An hour later, Daenerys and Sansa had to sit down because it felt as if every muscle in their body ached. Arya wasn’t entirely sympathetic—she advised them to take a hot bath with epsom salt in it to ease their aches and pains, but she sat down next to them all the same.

“So, tell me about those hideous dresses you had to wear.”

Sansa almost fell over at her little sister addressing the Dragon Queen so informally and was worried that Daenerys would be mad, but the silver-haired woman simply laughed.

“Do not misunderstand me, there are some fashions to be found in Essos that are quite lovely and comfortable. For example, there is nothing better to beat the heat of Meereen than by wearing light colored dresses that are made of a material that you would think came from a cloud—that’s how soft and breathable the fabric is.” She smiled and then shook her head.

“Then there is Qarth. Do not ask me why, but it is all the rage for women to wear outfits that leaves one breast bare. It is the most irritating thing ever, especially for women that have been er…rather blessed in the chest area.”

Sansa grimaced at the thought. “They leave….one bare? You’re joking, surely!”

Daenerys sighed. “I wish I was. It was the most uncomfortable outfit I have ever worn in my life. I felt so awkward wearing it.” She admitted.

“Guess they don’t have any notions of modesty then eh?” Arya deadpanned, which made Sansa and Daenerys giggle.

“No…and no ethics or morals either. A group of warlocks tried to trap me using sorcery in order to be a captive in a place known as the House of the Undying and because they wanted my dragons.” She glowered, thinking of her long-dead enemies.

Sansa gave a sharp inhale and her eyes widened. “How did you escape them?”

Daenerys shrugged. “My dragons are like my children. They came to me in my time of need.”

“But weren’t you afraid that they would accidentally burn you?”

Daenerys bit her lip, unsure of how to answer and then decided that honestly was really the best policy, especially if she wanted to win Jon’s sisters over. 

“No. I know this sounds like the ravings of a mad woman and despite my father’s mental instability, I do not think I am mad but….I am apparently fireproof. That is why my people call me ‘The Unburnt’ as one of my titles.”

Sansa’s jaw dropped for real this time and Arya’s eyes lit up. “Wait, wait, wait, are you saying that you can’t be burned? Seriously? That is really bloody neat, can I see?”

“Sure. Let us go inside and find a candle.”

The three women went inside the Great Hall and Arya quickly grabbed a candle before shoving it at Daenerys. 

“Here you go.”

Daenerys gave a small smile and put her hand through the flame, a part of her relishing the utterly shocked look on the Stark sisters’ faces. She held her hand there for a long moment before removing herself from the flame and handing the candle back to Arya.

“That was awesome.” Arya breathed. “How did you learn that you were essentially fireproof?”

The Dragon Queen gave Jon’s youngest sister a sad smile. “It is a tale filled with tragedy and wonder. If you’d like, I’d be happy to recount it at dinner tonight, for it is too long to tell now.”

“Deal.” Arya said and then she returned Daenerys’ smile. “You should go take a hot bath and relax for a bit so your muscles won't hurt tomorrow morning. This won’t be easy, but both of you show potential. You two did well today.” With that, she turned and left.

Sansa and Daenerys looked at each other. 

“High praise coming from my sister. My Lady Mother’s spirit must be looking down from the heavens and laughing uproariously at how my little sister is training me to be a fighter—I always wanted to be a perfect little lady when I was a young girl. Let us follow Arya’s advice- I cannot speak for you, of course, but I feel like an achy old woman!”

As the two women walked out of the Great Hall, Daenerys could sense that slowly but surely, she was winning Sansa’s respect. Perhaps they would never be best friends, but she was glad to see that the Lady of Winterfell was starting to warm up to her.


	5. Chapter 5

There was less tension in the air during dinner as Arya waved hello to Daenerys and Sansa’s smile was much warmer towards her than when she first arrived in Winterfell.

“Come, sit between us. I want to hear about how you gave birth to dragons!” The younger Stark’s grey eyes shone with excitement.

Daenerys sat down next to the two Stark sisters, feeling a bit apprehensive but she could see that Jon was clearly thrilled that his siblings and his love were starting to get along—well, at least a little bit.

As the servants went around the Great Hall serving food and ale, Daenerys began her tale. “My older brother Viserys was warped from the trauma of the destruction of our family, and it caused him to become mad, like our father. My brother became even more delusional as he got older and he decided to sell me to a Dothraki horse lord named Khal Drogo in exchange for an army to take back Westeros.”

The Dragon Queen took a bit of her stew, seemingly lost in her memories. “I was terrified. I was only a young girl at the time, but even though I was scared of Khal Drogo, I was utterly petrified of my brother Viserys. When I made him angry, his rage was terrible to behold. He called it ‘waking the dragon.’”

“He abused you.” Sansa said in a soft voice.

Daenerys looked up at her and nodded in confirmation. “Yes, he abused me. Over time though, I grew to understand the Dothraki and to even find romantic feelings for my new husband. They gave me the resources I needed in order to gain confidence and break free of my brother’s grasp. Drogo actually killed Viserys when my brother threatened both me and the child I carried at the time.”

Sansa’s eyes grew softer, clearly remembering her own torment at the hands of the usurper Ramsey Bolton.

“Things seemed as if they were going to go well. Drogo made a promise to help me win back the Iron Throne and I thought I could finally reclaim my rightful seat. But it all went to hell so quickly.” The Dragon Queen downed a huge sip of ale in order to give her courage to recount the rest of her tale.

“During a raid, Drogo was wounded and refused to put the poultice that a godswife from Lhazareen named Mirri Maz Duur made for him after I saved her from being raped by the khalasar. Drogo became quite ill and fell off of his horse, which in Dothraki culture meant that he was no longer fit to be khal. I begged the godswife to save him using blood magic, but I was a fool.” Daenerys looked down at her stew and ate slowly for a few minutes before continuing her story.

“Mirri Maz Duur betrayed me as a way to get revenge for the destruction of her home. My unborn child—who I was going to name Rhaego—was born premature and deformed. Drogo returned, but only his body survived—his spirit was long gone. I sacrificed the witch on Drogo’s pyre in retribution after I killed my sun-and-stars out of mercy and I walked into the flames carrying the three dragon eggs I had received on my wedding. The blood magic—only death can pay for life, I don't know if the two of you knew that—allowed my three dragons to hatch. I named Drogon after my late husband, Rhaegal for my older brother and Viserion for Viserys. My brother was cruel and weak, but he was still my brother and I hoped that his namesake would make him proud. Instead, he was killed by the Night King.” She said bitterly.

Arya was quiet, but Sansa put a comforting hand over Daenerys’s own. “I thank you for sharing your story with us. I know it could not have been easy. I too have my own trauma—tomorrow, after we practice, I will tell you about my time with Ramsey Bolton and Petyr Baelish. It too is a sad tale, but one that I think you will be able to understand.”

“I am so sorry about the loss of your Viserion. He must have been beautiful. I wish I could have seen him before the Night King took him away from you. But have no fear, your Grace—we will avenge your son.” Arya said solemnly.

Daenerys smiled, overwhelmed by the fact that Jon’s sisters were finally acting kind towards her and could empathize with all she had went through.  
“Thank you, Lady Stark.” She told Arya.

Jon’s sister rolled her eyes. “I am no lady, like I told you before! Just call me Arya.”

“Well then, fair is fair—then the two of you must call me Daenerys.”

Sansa smiled, and Daenerys could see that the ice had finally melted from Jon’s other sister.

“Call me Sansa. No need for formalities amongst the three of us. Besides, if we do not get killed by the Others and we actually defeat Cersei, perhaps we shall be sisters-in-law!” she teased the Dragon Queen, who laughed and could not help but blush furiously—which of course she attempted to hide by taking a huge gulp of ale.

“And perhaps Arya will give me a new brother-in-law.” Sansa continued, a mischievous smile on her face.

“Oh? Who?” Daenerys was eager to stop the teasing.

“Why, that handsome smith over yonder who can’t stop staring at her.” She grinned, giving a little nod to where Gendry was sitting with Beric and the remnants of the Brotherhood that had joined Jon. 

The handsome young blacksmith blushed, clearly embarrassed by being caught ogling Arya by the Lady of Winterfell.

Sansa grin grew wider as her little sister’s face turning white as a ghost before she ducked her head and stared intently at her meal. 

“Oh don’t start this.” Arya groaned. “We need to focus on killing the Night King.”

Her comment sobered the other two women up and they sighed, all humor fleeing from them in one long breath.

“Aye. Here is to hope—hope that we kill this terror and live to defeat Cersei.” Sansa raised her cup of ale.

“Here, here.” Daenerys whispered as all three women clinked their mugs together in a solemn toast.


	6. Chapter 6

After the latest training session with Arya, the three women retreated to the Great Hall in order to relax and drink some water, since they were all sweating profusely after the lessons were done.

Sansa took that time to regale her tale of woe and after her older sister was done speaking about her trauma, Arya shared her own stories about being a Faceless Man with the Dragon Queen.

In an attempt to break the heavy silence, Arya changed the subject. 

“You know, I was thinking about something last night—you said the Night King killed Viserion with a spear made of ice, right? Well, maybe you should have dragonglass armor made for Rhaegal and Drogon, just in case. Might be a good idea to get some steel armor for when you attack King’s Landing too.”

Daenerys looked thoughtful. “That is actually not a bad idea Arya. I do not know if the dragonglass armor can stop their weapons, but I suppose any little bit can help in our fight. It’s also a good idea for them to have steel armor as well. I thank you for suggesting it.”

“I will ask Gendry today. I have to ask him about the weapon I want him to make anyway.” Arya shrugged.

“Oooo, Gendry?” Sansa teased her little sister and Arya looked away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

“Enough, Sansa.” The grey-eyed girl said sharply.

Daenerys smiled at the sisterly taunts, wishing that she could have grown up with loving siblings.

“Tell Gendry that if he is brave enough to take my children’s measurements, I would happily accompany him to make sure that they do not harm him. If not, as long as he can explain to me how to measure my children, I will do it myself. “She said, changing the subject.

“Excellent! You two go and freshen up, I will ask him right now.” Arya stood up and practically ran to the smithy.

Sansa giggled, watching her go. 

“I never thought I would see the day when my wild little sister fell in love and with a blacksmith no less! Come, let us get changed and then we will walk around the castle to see if any improvements for safety in this upcoming battle can be made.”

Daenerys smiled at her newfound friend’s invitation. “I actually came up with an idea I would like to run by you.”

“What is it?” Sansa asked.

“Dragonglass hurts the wights, yes? I know we are going to use trebuchets to help drive off the army of the Dead, but perhaps we can install dragonglass shards in strategic areas of the keep to help lower our chances of them destroying the walls and coming through.”

“I must admit, I do not know that much about warfare, but to me it sounds like it could work. We should ask Jon and the others if that might work.” Sansa smiled at the queen as the two women walked back inside arm in arm.

Meanwhile, the younger Stark sister made her way to the blacksmith’s forge, her heart pounding in anticipation.

“Have you made my weapon yet?” She asked instead of announcing her presence politely.

Gendry paused in his work, staring at her with his mouth open. “N-n-no, not yet.”

Arya rolled her eyes and critically examined some of the weapons he was making. “Nice, but not as important as my weapon.”

“Anything else?” The bull-headed smith asked, clearly exasperated by her antics.

She smirked. “Yes, actually. Can you make dragonglass armor for the Dragon Queen’s dragons and then steel armor for them?”

Gendry dropped his tools from shock. “Can I what now?”

“Can. You. Make. Dragonglass. Armor. For. Drogon. And. Rhaegal. Plus. Steel. Armor. For. When. They. Attack. King’s. Landing.” Arya said each word slowly, as if trying to explain to a small child.

“No need to get sarcastic with me. I do not know, but I can try. Just uhhh…how would I take their measurements? They likely won’t be happy if I try to measure them.”

“Daenerys can chaperone you…if you’re brave enough.” Arya teased.

Gendry scowled at her. “I am brave enough.”

“Excellent. We’ll meet tomorrow morning before breakfast. And don’t forget my weapon either!” She said loudly as she turned to leave the forge with the handsome blacksmith still staring after her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany meets Ghost, and Ghost meets two new friends. Also, the dragons can talk to each other and to Targaryens. It's not canon, but I just really like the idea of Drogon and Rhaegal being able to chat with Dany and Jon, haha.

The next morning, Daenerys woke early since Arya had stopped by her chamber the night before to tell her that Gendry agreed to try and make armor for her children. 

With Missandei’s help, she donned a heavy woolen gown dyed in black with red pants underneath in order to keep her legs warm and her customary silver dragon chain over one shoulder.

“Thank you, Missandei.” Daenerys gave her friend a grateful smile and left her chambers. 

On her way out of the courtyard, she ran into Jon Snow, who was enjoying a morning walk with his direwolf Ghost.

“Where are you going so early?” He asked curiously.

The Dragon Queen shrugged. “Arya suggested that I have dragonglass armor plus regular steel armor made for my children, just to be safe. The blacksmith Gendry said he would try to take their measurements before breakfast.”

The former king’s face lit up. “That is actually an excellent idea! Would you like me to accompany you? Maybe I can help you with Rhaegal, since he seems to like me for one reason or another.”

Daenerys gave a sigh of relief—Jon had been rather distant with her recently and she wanted nothing more to have their old closeness back. 

“Of course! And I presume that this is your direwolf?” She smiled down at the humongous beast. 

He smiled broadly. “Aye, he is. Ghost, go say hello to Queen Daenerys.” 

The massive wolf stared at the Dragon Queen for a few moments before trotting over to her and giving her a few good sniffs. He was clearly pleased with whatever conclusion he came to because he leaned into her leg and gave a happy whine when she scratched behind his left ear.

“He likes you.” Jon said approvingly.

“Ghost is beautiful! Just as beautiful as my children. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” She cooed before leaning down to give him a big hug and planted a kiss on the top of his head. Ghost responded by licking her face several times and Daenerys giggled.

“He really is adorable. Ghost, would you like to meet my children too? Rhaegal and Drogon recently lost their brother Viserion, and they would both be happy to make a new friend.” She asked and Ghost’s ears twitched as he slowly wagged his tail. “I take that as a yes.”

“Will the dragons take to him, you think?” Jon asked as they walked outside of Winterfell.

“Drogon and Rhaegal are excellent judges of character. Besides, they have been very lonely and I think they would like to have a new friend—even if it is a direwolf instead of a dragon.” Daenerys said before calling to her children.

The two remaining dragons were flying lazily over the castle, but they landed quickly when they heard their mother.

“Drogon, Rhaegal, this is Ghost. He is Jon Snow’s loyal direwolf and I know he cannot replace your brother Viserion, but I hope that the three of you can be friends. He lost his brothers Grey Wind, Summer, and Shaggydog as well as a sister named Lady. His other sister Nymeria was driven away from Arya in an attempt to save her life from the false prince Joffrey—all of this was told to me by Jon on the way here.” She whispered in Valyrian.

Jon watched the exchange, a bit hesitant that all would go well. But to his surprise, the two dragons sat down on the ground and attempted to make themselves smaller in order to not scare Ghost. 

_‘Hello.’_ Drogon and Rhaegal’s deep voices reverberated through the direwolf’s mind.

 _‘Nice to meet you.’_ The wolf nodded at the two dragons.

The direwolf trotted up to the two dragons and all three sniffed each other. Drogon and Rhaegal extended their massive tongues and gave Ghost a lick on either side of his face. In return, the wolf nuzzled the dragons—Drogon first, and then Rhaegal.

Jon and Daenerys looked at each other, beaming with pride that the three had taken to each other so quickly.

“Your Grace?” Gendry called out, followed by Arya. Both of them were holding dozens of measuring tapes and paper with a quill to write notes on.

“Hello Gendry, Arya.” Daenerys smiled at them in greeting.

“Would you mind if I examined them from a slight distance and sketched them first?” The blacksmith asked.

“Of course not.” Switching to Valyrian, she explained to her children what was going on and they sat as still as stone.

“Thank you.” Gendry breathed a sigh of relief as he walked around Rhaegal first, constantly sketching and making notes before repeating the process with Drogon.

After an hour and a half, he walked back over to where Daenerys, Jon, Arya and Ghost were waiting.

“So what’s the verdict?” Arya’s tone was brusque.

“I think dragonglass armor is possible and I can definitely make them steel armor. I made a few sketches and notes. If you don’t mind, Your Grace, may I be excused to go to my forge?”

“Yes, of course! Let me know if it works.” Daenerys gave him a thankful smile.

“I’ll help.” Arya said and walked off with Gendry.

When both were out of earshot, Jon sniggered. “Arya in love. I never thought I’d see the day.”

The Dragon Queen looked at him and grinned. “They are good for each other. I hope they can see that. Your sister and Gendry deserve to be happy.”

Jon smiled back at her and then his smile turned serious. “Dany? Will you accompany me to the crypts? I have something I want to tell you, and I would prefer if no little birds overheard us.”

Mystified, Daenerys nodded as Jon took their hand and they walked back to Winterfell, Ghost padding silently by their side.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the big reveal! It's a big change from the show because Jon being weirded out by the relationship doesn't make sense. Westeros is fictional, but noble families and royal families married cousins and such, so Jon is going to be used to this once he hears the news. 
> 
> I based Dany's reaction more on the books than the show; she often seems lonely in the books knowing she's the last living Targaryen and I get the impression if she knew about Aemon (and Jon) at the time, she'd be thrilled to find out that she's not alone.

The Dragon Queen felt goose bumps run up and down her arms as Jon grabbed a torch and led her down into the crypts. 

Even though she trusted him, some preternatural instinct warned her that this wasn’t a trip to learn more about the history of the Stark family.

Jon stopped in front of Lyanna Stark and took a deep breath. “I apologize for being so distant recently. I did not mean to hurt you, but my life has turned upside down after I found out who my mother was.”

“Really? How so?” Daenerys was curious to learn how he had found out the truth of who his mother was.

“You saw Bran. He’s….not my little brother anymore. He is the Three-Eyed Raven, whatever that means, and he claims to have psychic abilities that include seeing into the past. Even if I thought my little brother a mad man, when Sam was in the Citadel, he found a secret document long thought lost.”

Confused, Daenerys raised her eyebrows. “What did this long lost secret document say?”

Jon sighed and looked at her with tears welling up in his big grey eyes. “That Lyanna Stark—the sister to Ned Stark—went willingly with your brother Rhaegar. They were in love, and married in secret before a septon. She had a son, whom she named Jaeherys.”

Daenerys eyes went wide and she caught her breath as she realized the truth. “And you are Jaeherys, son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen.” It was not a question.

He nodded but much to his surprise, instead of being angry or upset, Daenerys threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

“Errrr….Dany?” Jon asked.

She looked up at him with big violet eyes. “I’m sorry. It is just that I always wanted to find a long lost relative, especially after Viserys became mad and was killed by my late husband. A Targaryen alone is an awful thing. Now I have a family!”

Jon relaxed. “So you are not mad that people would try to seat me on the Iron Throne instead of you.”

Daenerys rolled her eyes. “No, of course not. Actually, I was going to discuss this with you, but you’ve been a bit distant with me—of course, I understand now that I know why—but…if you are not reviled by making a marriage alliance, perhaps we could marry?” She looked up at him with hope coursing through her body.

“Dany, I won’t lie to you. It has been a shock finding out that the woman I love is actually my aunt. But I know family marriages are quite common amongst House Targaryen and I was looking in the library the other day—even the members of House Stark have married their cousins on occasion. I do think a marriage alliance is a good idea because it neutralizes the threat of the highborn trying to use my so-called claim to overthrow you.”

“Is that all?” Daenerys teased, her heart singing.

Jon smiled. “No, of course not. I love you, and I would be so proud to have you as my wife. I will admit that I never wanted to become a King, but it seems to be a position the gods have pushed me into. If it means becoming a king to marry you, then I will do so.” He said before leaning down and kissing her.

Several minutes passed before they broke apart and the couple touched their foreheads together. 

“So are we officially betrothed?” Daenerys laughed.

Jon chuckled. “Yes we are, my love. I don’t have any kind of fancy jewelry maker on hand at Winterfell, but I know Ned kept a box filled with plain jewelry that belonged to Lyanna Stark in his room and Sansa managed to save it from Ramsey’s clutches. One of them was a beautiful ruby ring—probably given to her by Rhaegar now that I think about it—and if you’d like, I would want that to be your engagement ring.”

The Dragon Queen’s eyes lit up and she was so touched by Jon’s thoughtfulness that she could not speak, but quickly nodded.

When she regained her voice, she added “And we should probably tell your siblings about our plans to get married too. Perhaps we can have a private family dinner tonight and share our good news!”

“They are not my sib—“Jon began but Daenerys cut him off with a raise of her eyebrow.

“Of course they are your siblings! Yes, they are technically your cousins but you never knew Rhaegar and you were raised by Ned Stark, which means that they are your siblings for now and always because you were lucky enough to have two fathers, with the latter being an uncle that loved you so much that he hid the truth from you.”

Jon smiled. “Yes, you are right. Theon was always torn between his identity growing up and never really reconciled with the fact that he was both a Greyjoy and a Stark. I won’t make that mistake and I won’t choose between the two. I am a Targaryen and a Stark.”

“It is a good combination.” She quipped, her eyes glittering with mischief. “Come, let us leave this morbid place and go find that ring of your mother’s.”

“As my Queen commands.” Jon gave her a loving kiss on the cheek and they turned and left the crypts.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now for the Starks to find out who Jon's parents really were while poor Dany learns some heartbreaking news.

The Stark family sat down to dine in their private chambers along side the Dragon Queen, her advisor Ser Jorah, her interpreter and best friend Missandei and Grey Worm, the leader of the Unsullied.

They made small talk as the servants placed the food and drink on their table. Lady Sansa gave them a small nod and one by one, they left.

The silence was thick so Jon raised his glass in a toast. “To victory against the Night King!” 

Daenerys and the others at the table raised their glasses in unison and repeated the toast before everyone clinked their drinks together and took a big sip.

“Okay, so spill the beans big brother. Why did you want us to have this private dinner instead of dining in the Great Hall?” Arya was blunt, as always.

This was it. Daenerys’s breath hitched in her chest as Jon reached over to take her hand. He lifted it up to show the silver and ruby red ring on her second-to-last finger.

“I have asked Daenerys Targaryen to marry me, and she agreed.”

Missandei and Jorah beamed at the couple, Bran gave the ghost of a smile, Grey Worm nodded his approval and the two Stark sisters practically squealed with joy.

“Welcome to the pack!” Arya and Sansa both got up to give Daenerys a big hug.

“I am so happy we are to be good-sisters!” The elder Stark sister’s eyes watered with happy tears.

“But there is more.” Jon sighed as his two sisters returned to their seats. He looked at Bran, and his little brother nodded back at him.

The Three-Eyed Raven then looked at the rest of the people sitting at the table. “As you may know, I was chosen to be the next Three-Eyed Raven because my powers of warging and green seeing were strong. When I was with my master, I learned how to see the ink that is dry.”

He took a tiny sip of ale before continuing with his narration. “During one of these trips to visit the past, I saw my father Eddard Stark at the Tower of Joy in Dorne. To make a long story short, Lyanna Stark was pregnant by Rhaegar Targaryen. Everything that was said during the Rebellion was a bald-faced lie. They loved each other, got married in secret and ran off together. She lost a lot of blood giving birth, but she made her brother promise to watch over her son, whom she named Jaeherys. Jon is Jaeherys.

Jon then took over the story. “Aside from this green vision, when my friend Sam was at the Citadel, he found a secret document that proved that Lyanna and Rhaegar were lawfully married.”

The silence was so loud that a pin could drop and no one would hear it.

Arya was the first one to cut the tension by leaping up from her seat so hard that it almost fell backwards and ran to embrace Jon into a fierce hug.

“Doesn’t matter who your real parents are. I still consider you my brother, and I always will.” She whispered into his ear and Jon’s eyes burned with unshed tears.

Sansa, of course, was practical as always. “It is good that the two of you are getting married because there would be some that feel that Jon is the rightful heir to the throne and would try to use his claim against you, Your Grace.”

Daenerys nodded, her throat tightening as she drank a bit of ale. “I know.” She whispered.

Then Sansa got up from her chair, her dark blue dress swaying slightly as she moved to where Jon and Daenerys stood.

“They will have to deal with us. You are my sister now too. The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.” The redhead smiled and bent to give Jon a big hug before hugging Daenerys, whose lithe body went limp in relief that Sansa wasn’t angry and actually embraced this idea.

“I know how the game is played, Your Grace. I know you already have a Hand, but if you are ever unsure of a situation and need advice, please turn to me. I would be happy to help my good-sister.” Sansa patted her hand before returning to sit at her seat. “Also, if you want, I would love to craft your wedding dress!”

The Dragon Queen beamed at her new sister, secretly thrilled that the rest of the Stark clan had finally warmed up to her and brought her into her circle. For the first time in her life, Daenerys had a glimpse of what it would have been like to grow up in a less dysfunctional family.

“Lady Sansa, you are wise beyond measure and I of course will always ask you for advice. I would also be incredibly happy if you made my wedding dress. Your sewing skills are absolutely fantastic—I wish I had your skill with a sewing needle!” Daenerys said and Sansa gave her a big smile in return, basking in the Dragon Queen’s praise.

“I would also advise that we keep Jon’s heritage a secret amongst ourselves, at least until after they are officially married and Dany is crowned Queen. There are many misogynistic men—and even some women—out there that would see Jon as having the ‘better claim’ and use it against you.” Sansa added solemnly and Daenerys nodded at her soon-to-be good-sister.

“Agreed. For now, this shall be our secret.”

“And should we even survive the battle of Winterfell, I’d like to be married in front of the heart tree. We can always renew our vows in King’s Landing.” Jon leaned back in his chair.

“That is an excellent idea! It will also help to show the Northerners that Daenerys is our Queen and our ally as well as helping to bring more goodwill to the idea of House Targaryen reclaiming the Iron Throne.” Sansa said, her eyes gleaming.

With secrets now out in the open, the group slowly drifted from more serious topics to light-hearted ones, such as Sansa constantly quizzing Daenerys every five minutes about what style of dress she likes the best while Arya and Jon sniggered at their sister’s enthusiasm.

When dinner was over and the servants started to appear in order to take the used utensils and plates away to be cleaned, Sansa stood up to wheel Bran back to his quarters.

He held up his hand and beckoned Jon and Daenerys to come closer. They huddled close around him and the young man’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“I did not want to disturb your happiness and so I kept my silence about my vision last night ‘til now, but I wanted the two of you to know that the day after tomorrow is when Fire meets Ice.”

“The Night King arrives?” Jon gave a sharp inhale.

“Yes, and I apologize for upsetting you, Your Grace, but I have to tell you this: your son Viserion is now a tool for the Night King.”

Daenerys felt as if someone had driven a knife through her heart and she gasped. _‘Stay strong, do not cry now…wait until you are in your chambers to do so.’_

It took her a few minutes to reign in the tears and retain her composure by taking in a shuddering breath. “I thank you for telling me that important bit of information, Bran. I am afraid I am quite tired and wish to retire to my chambers.” 

Bran nodded and Sansa gave her future good-sister a sympathetic squeeze of the hand, knowing that the Dragon Queen loved her children and must be heartbroken at the thought of having to kill her youngest son in order to free him from the Night King’s hold.

The Dragon Queen rushed down the hall to her chambers, with Jon Snow right by her heels.

When Daenerys got to her chamber door, she collapsed into Jon’s arms and trying her best to choke down her own tears.

“Shh, I have you.” Jon whispered as he opened the door and led her straight to the bed. The petite young woman curled up into the fetal position and finally let her sorrow go.

As the Queen sobbed endless tears into her fluffy pillow, Jon slowly and rather clumsily attempted to unbraid her hair. It took several tries and a lot of mental swearing, but eventually her long silver waves spilled over her back.

Once her hair was freed, the curly-haired young man began to run his fingers through her hair and would occasionally plant kisses on the back of her head as Daenerys grieved for poor Viserion.

The Dragon Queen eventually turned over, knocking the wolf-skin covers off of the bed and curling up into Jon’s tender embrace. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him as if for dear life, her tears falling onto his black tunic and leather over shirt.

“Thank you.” Her voice was hoarse from all that crying and she wiped mucus away from her nose with the back of her hand. 

To Jon, Daenerys looked like a broken child for a brief second and it made his heart ache to know that the Night King had perverted Viserion’s body for his own evil.

“Anytime.” He whispered, wiping away her tears with his thumb before getting up to got get her handkerchief from the vanity. He returned to the bed and handed it to his fiancée.

Daenerys took the handkerchief gratefully and blew her nose a few times, to make sure that she didn’t sound too stuffy.

“I am so sorry, Dany.” He whispered as she leaned back into his embrace. “I feel as if it was my fault poor Viserion is now the Night King’s, since I was the one that went on that idiotic failed expedition that doomed your son.”

Daenerys sat up and looked at him, taking his chin into her soft petite hand. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this! It is absolutely not your fault that Viserion died, that lies with the Night King and the Night King only.”

Jon gave her a tender smile and gave her a quick kiss. “We will make sure to avenge him. The Night King will be destroyed once and for all.”

“With fire and blood.” Daenerys gave a small half-smile as Jon kissed her forehead. “Will you stay with me? I don’t want to be alone.” She admitted.

“Of course. Let me go get my dressing gown and I will be right with you.” He said as he got up and went to the door.

An hour later, Jon was cuddled up next to Dany under the blankets and holding her softly while Ghost snuggled at their feet, his head resting on his new pack mate’s ankles.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Help arrives in a familiar face....

When Daenerys woke up in Jon’s arms and Ghost sleeping soundly by her feet, the fires of vengeance had taken over her and she was determined to see the Night King dead for what he put Viserion through.

She sat up in bed, her hair falling in tangled knots around her. 

Jon stirred, blinked and sat up next to her. “How are you feeling?”

His fiancée looked at him, fire burning in her eyes. “Now I am angry. I will burn the Night King to ash for what he did to my son. Viserion is lost to me, but I will make sure my son finds peace. A dragon is not a slave.”

Jon gave her a soft smile and kissed her on the cheek. “Aye, a dragon is no slave and we will make sure to give Viserion the rest he so richly deserves.”

A knock on the door from Missandei reminded Daenerys that it was time to dress. 

“Go and get ready my love, we have a long day ahead of us.” She then rose up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss, his beard tickling her chin. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“See you then.” He squeezed her hand affectionately before he left, Ghost at his side and let Missandei in.

“I am so sorry about Viserion. Jon mentioned it to me before he let me in.” The tall scribe gave Daenerys a big hug and the Dragon Queen squeezed her friend back with all her might.

“The Night King is going to rue the day he angered the Mother of Dragons.” She whispered before sitting down in front of her vanity to begin getting prepared for the day.

“I have no doubt that you, Drogon, Rhaegal and even Jon’s direwolf Ghost will tear him limb from limb.” Missandei put a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder before she grabbed a brush and began the arduous task of braiding the long silver waves.

A half hour later, Daenerys’s hair was pulled back into her usual intricate braids and she donned a ruby red tunic dress embroidered with pearls at the collar and at the hem. 

She wore slim-fitting leggings, knowing that Jon loved looking at her shapely legs. The final touch was her favorite long black cloak, emblazoned with the sigil of House Targaryen in red thread.

She thanked Missandei, and the two of them left arm in arm to go and break their fast with the Starks in the Great Hall.

It was obvious that everyone was nervous and on edge, but the Starks did their best to keep everyone’s spirits up by making lively small talk as if it was any other day and not the possible morning before the end of the world.

The sound of a horn blowing made Daenerys jump out of her seat and she exchanged looks of surprise with both Sansa and Arya.

Jon got up immediately and looked at Bran, who gave a slight shrug. 

“Allies are at our gate. More are coming.” He said, but Daenerys detected a slight sneer underneath his seemingly impassive façade and thought that his tone was odd.

The couple looked at each other and made for the front gates. 

“Who is at the door?” Jon asked one of the guards that had come running up to him.

“The Red Witch! Melisandre, at the head of an army.” The burly middle-aged man huffed as he tried to catch his breath.

Jon’s face turned to stone and he grasped the handle of Longclow. Daenerys could sense her fiancé’s agitation and mentally called for her children, feeling them take off from their nest.

Ghost had followed them outside and he placed himself in the middle of the couple with a look of fierce determination on his furry face.

Jon and Daenerys walked to the gate and stepped outside with their guards, the massive direwolf and the sound of two approaching dragons.

Melisandre was draped in a heavy red cloak and at her back stood more than one thousand soldiers; there were both men and women all wearing the exact same cloak as her. The only difference is that they bore weapons and had heavy armor on underneath.

“Lord Snow.” Melisandre’s eyes glittered as she gave a faint nod to the former King in the North.

“I swore to you that I would have you executed if you came back North. Why are you here? And who—“Jon jerked his chin “-are they?”

The Red Witch gave the royal couple a faint smile. “You do not need to worry about preparing an execution, for the Lord of Light has told me that my last day on this earth will be during the Battle of Winterfell. And the warriors behind me are some members of the Fiery Hand--an army composed of Red Priests--that have volunteered to fight to bring the Dawn.”

Daenerys eyed the army—not only would it give them more men to fight against the Army of the Dead, but they could also perform magic, which would give them an edge in the upcoming battle.

“Jon,” she turned to look at him right in the eyes. “--we should let them stay. They can use magic and fight with traditional weapons. They could be the fine line between victory and defeat.”

Her fiancé’s eyes softened and she knew he wasn’t happy about letting Melisandre live, but he also knew that she was right and he respected her opinion.

“Very well. You and your army may stay, but if you manage to outlive the Army of the Dead, you will answer for your crimes.” He growled.

Melisandre bent her head in assent. “Thank you, my lord.”

Sansa and Arya, who had followed the couple outside, watched the entire exchange with wide eyes. 

When Jon turned on his heel and stomped back inside of the Great Hall, she stepped up next to Daenerys.

“Be welcome to Winterfell, Lady Melisandre. Come, I will make sure that you and your soldiers have suitable chambers and refreshments prepared. I am sure that you must have had a long journey.” She smiled and gestured for them to follow her.

As Melisandre passed Arya, she gave her a knowing smile that only elicited a vicious glare from the young warrior.

Once the Red Priestess and her army were out of earshot, the Dragon Queen turned to her soon-to-be-good sister and raised one silver eyebrow. “What was that about.”

Arya’s face was tight. “I encountered her when she was in Westeros with the Brotherhood Without Banners. That’s when she kidnapped…..” She trailed off and Daenerys instantly knew that the Red Witch had taken the she-wolf’s beloved blacksmith hostage.

“She also told me I would close many eyes forever.” Arya gave a short, cold laugh. “She was right about that, at least.”

Daenerys reached out and squeezed her good-sister’s hand in reassurance and sympathy.

“I understand why you do not trust her. Sadly, in this fight, beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Mmmmph.” Arya grunted.

Daenerys gently pulled her in the direction of Gendry’s blacksmith. “Shall we see how my dragon’s armor is coming along?”

That plan made Arya relax a bit and she gave the Queen a bright smile.  
“Yes! I am so curious to see the final result.” She said as they walked off.

Arya led Daenerys quickly to Gendry’s forge and burst into the room with a quick shout of “Oy, let’s see the dragon armor!”

Gendry rolled his eyes and grinned at Arya’s lack of manners before greeting the Queen.

“Your Grace, behold—two of the most beautiful things I have ever forged.” He said, walking to a long table behind him and grabbing the sheet covering it off to reveal the two sets of massive dragon armor.

“With the help of Lord Tyrion and Samwell Tarly, I also took the liberty of creating saddles for Your Grace and Lord Snow so that the two of you don’t fall when fighting the Night King.” Gendry added, pointing to the beautifully crafted leather saddles that underneath the tables. “There are straps for your legs so that you don’t fall off when the dragons perform a complicated aerial maneuver.”

Daenerys gasped—the obsidian shone even in the dim light of the forge and the leather looked as soft as the fur of a young pup. “They are beautiful.” She whispered with tears in her eyes and Gendry beamed with pride at her praise.

“You did good, you stubborn bull.” The tiny assassin joked, elbowing Gendry in the ribs. 

“I also made armor for you too, just in case.” The blacksmith said, motioning for her to look at the smaller table that was set right next to the larger one. “

Gendry gently picked up steel and obsidian armor that he and Arya helped to fasten around their Queen. On the shoulder blades was etched the blood-red sigil of House Targaryen.

“Perfect.” Arya beamed at Gendry and then at Daenerys.

“It’s pretty damn good if I do say so myself.” The blacksmith smirked.

Daenerys eyes watered as she ran her hands over the beautiful armor that Gendry crafted for her. It gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, they would survive the Long Night and that they’d live to see the dawn.

“May the Night King tremble when he sees our army. I will turn him into ash for what he did to Viserion.” She said fiercely to her friends, filled with hope and a white-hot resolve to avenge her child.


	11. Chapter 11

The sun had set and Daenerys had asked Missandei to help her get ready for bed, but she couldn’t sleep. Her blood hummed with a desire for revenge and her mind was jittery, on edge on the eve of battle.

Jon was already in bed and wearing a worn but cozy nightshirt, watching as his fiancée tossed and turned under the covers.

“Can’t sleep, huh?” He reached out to run his hand through his wife-to-be’s long, silver locks.

Daenerys shook her head no. “I feel anxious, angry, and oddly hopeful all at once. I dislike this waiting game—you know that patience is not one of my strong suits.” She admitted, leaning into her fiancé’s calloused palm.

“I have felt like that before every battle I have ever participated in. I believe it is normal.” Jon said, pulling her close to him. 

Daenerys sighed and cuddled up next to him with her head on his shoulder. 

“We should at least try to get some sleep.” He told her and she hummed in agreement. 

Her fiancé started slowly massaging the back of her neck in order to lull her to sleep; despite all of her fear and anxiety, Jon’s soothing hands helped her drift off.

The couple was rudely awoken by the sound of a horn blowing at dawn. Jon nearly jumped a foot out of Daenery’s bed, thinking that the Others were finally upon them.

“No love, it was one horn.” She murmured sleepily, sitting up in the bed and brushing her long hair out of her eyes.

“Who could be approaching Winterfell now?” He furrowed his thick brows in concern.

Daenerys smirked. “Maybe Cersei Lannister had a change of heart at the last minute?” 

Jon chuckled. “I am pretty sure that the seven hells would freeze over before that happened, my love.” 

He kissed her cheek and stood up to start getting dressed.

Once he was done, he turned to his future wife. “I will see you in the Great Hall.” Jon said, giving her a kiss before he left for his own chambers.

Only a few minutes after he left, Missandei gently knocked on the heavy wooden door and waited for her Queen to invite her in.

The two women were silent as Missandei braided Daenery’s hair into an intricate knot that would keep her locks out of her face during the heat of battle. Daenerys wore a heavy black overcoat lined with fox fur dyed bright red with red leggings underneath. 

A knock on the door startled them both, and the Queen motioned for her handmaiden to answer.

Standing there was Arya, holding a long, thin package. 

“I wanted this to be a surprise for you, Your Grace.” She said, her eyes twinkling. “You are a very good student and I wanted to make sure that you would be safe tonight.”

Daenerys took the package and put it on top of her dresser before opening it. A beautiful sword that was a bit smaller than Longclaw lay before her. 

Instead of the white wolf that Jon’s sword had at the pommel, there were three dragons wrapped around each other—one black, one green and one gold. Her eyes welled up with tears. 

“Thank you, Arya.” She whispered and went over to hug her good-sister.

The petite assassin smiled. “I am so glad you like it. I had Gendry work on it in secret especially for you. After all, I need to help keep my good-sister alive, eh?”

Daenerys gave an unladylike snort at Arya’s dark humor. “Thank you. I really do appreciate it.”

“Let us go down to the Great Hall, Jon is waiting. Apparently more allies are waiting at the gate.”

“Who are they?” Daenerys asked as Missandei closed the door and followed them down the corridor.

“No idea, but Bran seems a bit anxious, which is unusual. Well…now, I mean.” Arya frowned slightly, clearly not thrilled that her little brother seems to be lost in dreams now.

Daenerys raised an eyebrow at that, but kept her thoughts to herself as they walked down to the Great Hall. 

Jon was already there, talking to his sister Sansa and Bran. He turned and gave a bright smile when he saw Daenerys.

The three women joined the little group. 

“Arya says that there are allies at the gates?” Daenerys asked, a bit of concern furrowing her brow.

“Yes. We need to go greet them now.” Bran looked up and stared at all of them one by one.

Jon and Daenerys took the lead, walking arm in arm out of the keep with Sansa behind them and Arya pushing Bran’s wheelchair.

The future king of the Seven Kingdoms nodded to the guard at the gate. “Who has arrived?”

“Lord Howland Reed, his daughter Meera and 50 soldiers.” He said.

“Let them in.”

The gate creaked open and in walked the mysterious lord that Jon had heard so little about in his childhood except for a few snippets here and there.

The crannogman was short with wrinkles lining his face that gave him a leathery appearance. His once sandy-brown hair was streaked with grey, but he was still in good shape. He wore bronze scale armor and instead of a sword, he had a spear with three prongs at his side.

Jon’s heart squeezed painfully when he realized that Lord Reed had known his mother and with any luck, would be able to tell him more about his birth parents.

Howland’s dark green eyes twinkled as he looked at Daenerys and Jon standing before him before moving on to the rest of the Starks. 

“I am glad that we did not show up too late. When my daughter Meera returned home, I knew that we crannogmen could not hide from the threat of the Others any longer. It was time to join the fight, though I only could spare 50 soldiers.” He explained, a sheepish expression crossing his face.

“No, do not feel ashamed, my Lord. I know the crannogmen are good fighters and we could use all the help we can get tonight.” Jon said, shaking the old man’s hands in greeting.

At her father’s side, Meera was staring at Bran but he ignored her. Like her father, she also wore bronze scale armor and had a bow and arrows strapped to her back.

“Your Grace, may I present Lord Howland Reed, and his daughter Meera?” Jon said, turning to his fiancée.

Daenerys gave a warm smile as Lord Reed bowed and kissed her ring. “I have heard much about you, Your Grace.” He smiled back at her.

“And this is my sisters, Lady Sansa and Lady Arya as well as my brother Lord Bran, but I know your daughter is already acquainted with him.” Jon continued with a gentle smile at Meera.

“Be welcome to Winterfell, my lord. Would you like me to help you and your soldiers find accommodations?” Sansa stepped forward, standing closer to Jon and Daenerys.

“Thank you, my lady. That would be wonderful.” He said, bowing to her. Sansa gracefully looped her arm into his and lead him back to the Great Hall, making small talk as she left.

Meera stepped forward, hazel eyes brimming with excitement. “Bran, I am so happy to see you! How…how…are…you doing?” She stammered.

He shrugged, looking at her with eyes that seemed to glance right through her soul. “I am the Three-Eyed Raven now, Meera. It matters not how I am ‘doing’ as long as I am strong enough to help the living defeat the dead.”

Arya, Daenerys and Jon all gave each other alarmed looks at Bran’s cold words.

“C’mon Bran, let’s get something to eat before the war council this afternoon.” Arya said a bit too fast before she grabbed his wheelchair and led him back inside.

“Lady Meera, would you like to accompany us to the forge? We still have plenty of dragon glass weapons for you to choose from.” Daenerys asked.

The petite young woman seemed stunned at first, but she quickly recovered and gave the Dragon Queen a grateful smile. “I would like that.” Meera said in a low voice before following the couple to the forge.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at battle strategy and writing battle scenes, but I did my best during the war council.

In the mid-afternoon, Daenerys and Jon called for their war council to meet and review their plans.

Grey Worm, Missandei and Tyrion sat next to the Dragon Queen while Arya, Sansa and Bran sat next to Jon. 

In the middle were Melisandre, Theon, Samwell, Lady Mormont, Howland, Meera, Gendry, Tormund, Ser Davos, Ser Jorah, Varys, Jaime and Brienne. Jon and Ser Davos weren’t thrilled to be so close to the Red Priestess, but they had no other choice.

“To begin, our numbers have risen thanks to Lord Reed and the members of the Fiery Hand,” Jon’s voice cut through the quiet. “Our final count runs thus: 8,000 Unsullied and 10,000 Dothraki. Between the Wildlings, the Brotherhood Without Banners and the Night’s Watch, we have about 400 fighters in good condition.”

“Then there are the 2,000 Knights of the Vale, 12,000 Northmen infantry and 1,200 cavalry. Lady Lyanna, you brought 40 soldiers, yes?” Sansa added, looking to the fiery little lady.

“I did, and they can all fight well. They have healed up nicely after the Battle of the Bastards.” 

“I also have about 300 former Lannister and Tarly soldiers that surrendered to me and are willing to fight for the living.” Daenerys added, although she didn’t miss the sour face Samwell made at the mention of his father. “Plus, we have the new addition of the 50 Reed soldiers and 1,000 soldiers from the Fiery Hand.”

Jon nodded at his son-to-be wife and turned to Tyrion.

“My lord Hand, I was reviewing your plans for having our first line of defense be my Queen’s Dothraki, but now that we have the Fiery Hand and Lord Reed’s soldiers, I think that is a mistake.” The former King in the North pointed out.

The Imp furrowed his brow. “How so?”

“For one thing, it would be terrible to have my Queen’s Dothraki be sacrificed and an entire culture go extinct.” Jon said quietly.

The Hand gave a small nod. “I see your reasoning. What do you propose instead?”

Jon and Daenerys looked at each other, but it was the Dragon Queen who spoke up.

“Lady Sansa and I were discussing the upcoming battle the other day and we wondered if we could put some of the unused dragonglass shards in strategic places on the walls.”

“I think that is possible, Your Grace. It certainly would help prevent the wights from climbing the walls.” Samwell mused.

“Excellent. As for our plan of attack, we need to build defensive trenches here, here and here…”Jon pointed out the spots quickly on the massive map in the middle of the table. “They’ll be filled with pitch; Rhaegal and Drogon can do strafing runs to make sure the fires don’t go out. The catapults will be behind the defensive trenches; we’ll need all the spears and archers at the forefront.”

The Northman paused for a moment and looked at Daenerys. She continued explain the battle plans they had brainstormed with Arya, Grey Worm, Qhono, Jorah and Tormund last night.

“Once my children light the trenches, then we can send the Dothraki in.” Daenerys smiled at Qhono before looking over at the Red Priestess. “Is there a spell that the priests of the Red God know that can light a fire? Or perhaps, weapons?”

Melisandre gave a slow smile. “Yes. One priest or priestess would not be able to do so, but since we are one thousand strong, we will be able to combine our magic.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. He was reluctant to trust the Red Witch, but even he had to admit that setting the Dothraki’s weapons on fire would be a good advantage for their side.

“And I will be bait in the Godswood.” Bran spoke up with no emotion in his voice.

“Like hell you are.” Arya snarled, one hand going to the dagger she always wore.

“I have to be. He is hunting for me. I am the Three-Eyed Raven.”

“But why is he after you?” Meera spoke up, frustration and fear coloring her voice as she turned to glare at Bran. “Why is he so desperate to kill the last greenseer?”

“I am not just a greenseer, Meera. I am more than that now. I am the Three-Eyed Raven and I contain the whole of human history. When the Children of the Forest created the Night King, they programmed him to destroy humanity. By destroying me, he destroys the very memory of our race.” He said quietly.

“Fine. But then I am going to be your bodyguard again. We will see this through. For Jojen.” Meera said firmly and gave her father a fierce glare. “No, do not talk me out of this Papa. I must.”

Howland bowed his weathered head and gave a sigh. “Very well, my daughter. I consent.”

“I too will stand by your side.” Theon’s thin voice reverberated around the room. “I know that I have done terrible things, including betraying Robb. But please, let me try to erase my sins by being a member of Bran’s bodyguard along with the few Iron Born I have brought with me.” He stared at Sansa, Daenerys, Arya, Bran and finally, Jon.

The former King in the North and the former heir of the Iron Islands locked eyes for a long, long moment as something akin to understanding and acceptance was passed from one to the other.

Jon nodded. “Aye.”

“Now, how should we defend our people? I was going to suggest that we go into the crypts, since we will be able to bar the doors from the wights.” Sansa spoke up in an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence.

“If you do that, then I would highly recommend that you burn all the dead in the crypts before you do so. Otherwise, there is a good chance that the Night King will be able to raise the dead resting there and then it will be a slaughterhouse.” The young crannogwoman pointed out.

The Starks went pale at the thought and Sansa dipped her head at Meera’s words, pushing a piece of hair that had fallen out of her intricate braid out of her eyes. 

“Where should our people shelter?” Sansa looked up at the younger woman.

Meera thought hard. “I would say the Great Hall. Barricade it with as many heavy tables and chairs and whatever else you can think of.”

“My soldiers would be honored to defend House Stark and I shall lead them!” Lady Mormont spoke up for the first time, her eyes blazing with a fierce fire.

“My lady, you are the future of our house. You cannot do that.” Ser Jorah whispered as a look of horror crossed his face.

“I can, and I will.” Lady Mormont snapped at her older cousin, her tone showing that she would brook no opposition.

“If Lady Mormont would like to guard House Stark, I accept.” Sansa butted in before the argument could go any further.  
Jorah looked at Daenerys, who nodded and then he cast down his eyes in acquiescence.

“I also think that Howland’s soldiers would be a great addition to my archers that will be stationed on the walls of Winterfell. I know the crannogmen have good aim.” Arya added, giving a small smile at Howland.

He smiled back at her. “My people and I would be honored to serve under you, Lady Stark.” Arya rolled her eyes at the term but held her tongue.

“Now, once the Dothraki and the Northern calvary are out on the field and we have hopefully decimated a large number of the dead, we will use the Bolton bastard’s own technique against the Night King and his White Walkers: surround them so there is no way they can escape and overwhelm them.” Jon added.

Jaime nodded his agreement. “It is a good plan. Ned would be proud.”

Jon gave the one-handed knight a faint smile at the compliment.

“Thank you. I hope his spirit and his wisdom will guide us.”

“That is a good plan, brother. I will try to warg the dead dragon. If I can take control of the wight’s body, then we can take out a valuable tool for the Night King.” Bran added.

Daenerys gave the youngest remaining Stark a look. “Thank you; please help bring him peace. A dragon is not a slave.”

Bran turned towards her and studied her face for a long moment before nodding his head.

“Bran, do you know when will the Night King arrive?” Jon asked.

The Three-Eyed Raven looked up at him with dispassionate eyes. “Mid-to-late evening. We must prepare now.”

“Well, I suppose with that answer, the meeting is adjourned.” Tyrion said, trying to break the tension that suddenly filled the air.

Daenerys gave a half-smile. “Yes. Now, we must ready for battle. Good luck, all of you.” She said, her voice ringing out around the room.

The council filed out in twos and threes; soon only Jon and Daenerys were left. He took her in his arms and gave her a kiss. She snuggled up close to him and put her head over his heart, listening to it beat.

They stayed still for a long time, each loath to break the embrace and get ready for the upcoming battle.

Finally, Daenerys sighed and looked up at Jon. “It is time, my love. Let us show the Night King what the meaning of Fire and Blood is.” 

He gave a small little half-smile at her ferocity and kissed her forehead. “Aye. It is time to battle for the dawn.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thank you for all the kind words about this fic. :) Like I mentioned the other day, I'm not great at battle scenes but I tried my best re: Battle for the Dawn.

Night was falling, and all Daenerys could do was count her breaths in an attempt to keep herself calm. She reached out with one gloved hand to grasp Jon’s hand as they stood on a hill near Winterfell with the two massive dragons.

Daenerys shivered then, the temperature was dropping rapidly and she immediately flashed back to the terrible day when the Night King killed Viserion. The drastic shift in the weather was exactly the same.

“They’re coming.” Jon said, a bit unnecessarily. He leaned over and gave his wife-to-be a swift kiss before Drogon and Rhaegal bent down to let their riders hop onto their backs.

Daenerys was thankful that Gendry was so thoughtful and had made saddles for both her and Jon as she buckled her legs in and adjusted the sword Arya had gifted her.

“Time to light the trenches and do our strafing runs.” The Dragon Queen patted her son’s back.

‘ _It is time to show the Night King what dragons can do.’_ She told Drogon through their psychic link.

 _‘Indeed.’_ Drogon quickly flew into the air, his little brother following behind him.

The two dragons used the oncoming clouds in order to shield themselves from the army of the dead, but dropped like arrows in order to set the trenches on fire.

 _‘Mother, Father, the dead are coming. I hear them walking towards the castle.’_ Rhaegal told them through their shared mental link.

 _‘Back into the clouds, brother.’_ Drogon ordered, remembering the deadly ice spear carried by the Night King that had doomed their baby brother Viserion.

As they travelled back to safety in the air, Jon and Daenerys caught a glimpse of their foe.

The Night King’s army came out of the gloom—undead corpses with bright glowing eyes that always seemed unearthly—marching in unison with an eerie gait that made the hair on the back of the Dragon Queen’s neck stand on end.

The wights walked silently through the now-howling winds and stood only a few feet away from where the Northern infantrymen stood silently, their faces betraying no emotion whatsoever.

“Thank the Old Gods Ghost is protecting Sansa and the others in the Great Hall.” Jon murmured to Rhaegal as they hid amongst the clouds.

 _‘He will be safe, Father. Brother is tough, like us.’_ The emerald green dragon reassured his rider.

Jon gave his mount a gentle pat on the shoulder, but startled when he heard a loud shriek reverberate through the air.

Daenerys shivered; she knew that sound. It was Viserion, but the Night King had perverted his very voice: he sounded like decay and rot itself.

Drogon and Rhaegal gave low growls as they heard the dragon weight and instantly flew closer together so they would be able to fend off an attack.

On the ground, Ser Jorah bellowed orders to the infantrymen standing behind the trenches.

“Stand firm, men of the North! The dead are here, now is the time to fight for your wives, your daughters, your sons, and your land.” The grizzled knight yelled out.

It seemed an eternity before the wights moved and when they did, the wind kicked up and carried their unholy voices all around the keep. Some ran straight into the fire, not caring if the flames destroyed what was left of their flesh and bones.

Arya studied the wights, perplexed by their behavior before she realized what they were trying to do. “Archers, knock!” She called out loud and clear. “Loose!”

As the undead kept falling through the fires in an attempt to put out the fire, dragonglass arrows rained down upon them.

Just then, the she-wolf of Winterfell heard two loud roars reverberate through her bones.

Drogon and Rhaegal dipped out of the clouds like lightning and ignited the areas of trenches that had gone out in some spots, killing some more of the wights that the arrows hadn’t been able to reach.

Arya gave a feral grin at the sight of her brother and her good-sister on the back of their dragons.

In the gloom, the White Walkers were clearly not happy about this turn of events. The one leading a small group on the left lifted up his spear and growled something in a foreign language. 

To Arya, she could barely make out any words—it sounded like the harsh sound of ice cracking in a frozen lake and she shuddered, feeling a bit unnerved by the sound.

Just then, an unholy shriek reverberated through the air. The Night King on Viserion swooped down from out of the gloom and the undead dragon’s breath was ice itself.

It only seemed to get colder as the ice froze over the fire. The White Walker general gestured his ice-tipped spear as the wights began to run at the Northmen infantry.

Somewhere near Arya, Samwell Tarly gave the command for the trebuchets to fire and all she saw were flames as the wights started to burn.

What troubled her was that they still pressed on, engaging with the infantrymen.

The Northmen’s eyes widened, but their grim faces held no fear as they engaged with the enemy. The wights’ high-pitched shrieks reverberated all around as they fought to break the thick line of shields, spears and swords.

The Red Priests started chanting; an eerie counterpart to the the undead’s cries and in a bright burst of flame, the infantrymen’s weapons were lit on fire.

Some of the lights from the weapons began to dim as the Northmen shrieked and convulsed in their death throes. Daenerys’ heart broke at the thought of all the people fighting that she couldn’t save and it stiffened her resolve to defeat the Night King.

Her heartbreak quickly turned to a fierce joy as she saw another group of infantrymen attack one of the White Walker generals while she and Jon sectioned off some of the undead with dragonfire.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a young man with sandy blonde hair strike at one of the twisted creatures with a dragonglass spear.The formidable White Walker gave a look of astonishment before exploding into ice-cold shards. 

With his death, the 300 or so wights the Northmen had been fighting crumpled to the ground, never to animate once more.

The Northern infantry then gave a loud war cry that would strike fear into the hearts of anyone listening—even the Night King himself.

Given the sudden shriek from Viserion, it seems as if the Night King was not expecting such a victory so early in the battle. Daenerys and Jon landed on two opposite towers, staring straight ahead at the Other as they waited to see what he would do.

The infernal king lifted up his arms and the snowstorm grew harder, but it was still not enough to stop the infantrymen from slaughtering another group of the wights, 

Viserion gave an unholy cry of rage and suddenly swooped down at the mortal men. He opened his desiccated mouth and let loose his icy breath, injuring many of the soldiers and freezing the fires in the trenches once more before disappearing into the storm.

In response, the catapults whistled and hummed while dragonglass arrows shot through the air like rain.

The wights screamed in fury as the assault didn’t let up. The White Walker generals were frustrated and whispered something into the wails of the winter storm.

Just then, the Night King upon Viserion shot out of the clouds like a lightning bolt and aimed to stop the fires in another area in an attempt to thwart the living.

Both Daenerys and Jon urged their dragons to fly higher so they could try and intercept the undead wight that was once their brother. Rhaegal and Drogon dove straight down at Viserion and unleashing torrents of flame.

This prevented the dragon wight from freezing the fires, but the ready-made ice shards hit some of the soldiers of both the undead and the living.

With a shriek of rage, Drogon flew closer and whacked the Night King with his tail.

 _‘This is for my little brother.’_ The black dragon whispered to his parents and remaining sibling as he watched the creature tilt sideways and scramble to grab onto the spikes before he fell.

Rhaegal gave a feral grin before launching his own attack to further destabilize the Night King; he managed to grab a massive chunk of Viserion’s decaying skin and ripped it off of his neck.

The wight dragon gave an unearthly scream and he tried to whip what was left of his neck around to attack Rhaegal, but his brother merely swung upwards and dodged the blow.

The Night King had by this time righted himself and tried to throw another ice spear at Drogon, but he and Daenerys merely laughed before the black dragon suddenly pulled a hard left, easily avoiding the weapon.

The creature bared his teeth in a frustrated snarl and he turned back to look at the fields. The Night King then urged Viserion to fly towards Winterfell, clearly intending to wreak as much havoc with the undead dragon as possible.

Daenery’s eyes grew wide as she glanced over at Jon. He was watching the Unsullied reinforcing the infantrymen, flaming weapons shining in the gloom.

The Northman made a movement with his chin to indicate that she should help them by incinerating as much of the wight army as she could. She nodded back and took off.

Drogon dove fast and swift towards the wight army. He roared and sent flames dancing towards the ground, grinning in triumph when the wights shrieked as they burned.  
Daenerys gave a fierce grin when she heard the loud cheers of the Unsullied, the Dothraki and the Northmen as the undead went up in flames.

Meanwhile, Jon was fast on the Night King and Viserion’s heels. Rhaegal flew close enough to rip half of his tail off and quickly dodged his fallen brother’s icy brearh.

He could see that the Night King was furious; even from this distance, the former King in the North could see that Viserion’s eyes flashed white now, not blue.

 _‘Bran.’_ Jon grinned and urged Rhaegal to strike his fallen brother once more.

The Night King saw Rhaegal coming straight towards them and easily jumped from the wight dragon’s back. Viserion stayed unearthly still, his eyes flashing from white to blue and then back to white, which allowed Rhaegal to rip the dragon to shreds. 

With a trumpeting roar, Rhaegal breathed a torrent of fire onto his fallen brother and burned the wight dragon’s corpse. The bones of Viserion fell in a clatter near the wight army and where the Night King was falling.

Rhaegal aimed another blast of fire at the Night King and for a quick second, Jon thought that he had finally defeated the infernal creature. His hopes were dashed when the Night King walked through the fire unscathed. 

He gazed upward at the massive green dragon and smiled. The the leader of the Others lifted his arms once again and resurrected all of the dead that had passed recently in the battle as well as calling forth more wights that were apparently hidden in the storm.

The Unsullied, Dothraki and the Northern infantrymen were forced to retreat, racing back to the keep in an attempt to keep from being slaughtered.

Daenerys saw this and did her best to destroy as many new-made wights and provide cover for her people.

At first, the wights seemed hesitant to cross the massive circle of fire. 

Then, the ones in the front began to fall into the flames and within the blink of an eye, the wights had piled up in a rotten corpse-filled bridge that allowed the others to easily cross and try to attack the walls of Winterfell.

Jon looked as the soldiers fought desperately to hold the defense of the castle and Ser Davos yelled for more of the trebuchets to launch volleys of fire at the wights, but to no avail.

His heart sank as the wights stormed the castle. The great doors of the keep came down with a massive crash as Wun-Wun’s wight walked out of the storm to literally kick it down while easily ducking Rhaegal’s blast of fire.

The Night King smirked in triumph and easily walked into the keep, apparently heading to the Godswood.

“Come, boy. It is time to end it.” Jon said to Rhaegal and the green dragon quickly flew to where the Godswood and Bran laid in wait.


	14. Chapter 14

Sansa knew the minute that the keep had been breached because the distant shouts from the battle became more frantic and desperate. Her heart rate spiked and she glanced to where the door was well barricaded and defended by the Mormont lady and her soldiers.

Ghost lifted his head to sniff the air and he gave a low growl, clearly not liking the atmosphere in what lay beyond the Great Hall.

Sansa could see that both her and Daenerys's people were getting restless with fear. She locked eyes with Missandei, who was sitting in a corner biting her lip and that solidified her desire to try and do something. She might not be a fierce warrior like Arya, Jon and Daenerys, but she had her own strengths.

“Come. Let us recite a prayer to the Seven. After that, we shall pray to the Old Gods and anyone of a different faith may also join in by praying to whatever deity they believe in.” She stood up and walked to the center of the room, gesturing for others to follow her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Missandei give a ghost of a smile and Tyrion nod his approval at her.

The Lady of Winterfell stood straight as an arrow as some of the people in the crypts got up to join hands and stand in a circle. 

Sansa touched the obsidian dagger hidden in her sleeve for reassurance and began to lead the people in prayers, glad that her voice betrayed neither anxiety nor fear.

 _‘I hope Bran and the others are safe.’_ Sansa thought and she closed her eyes to plead with whatever god was out there to protect her little brother.

Outside of the Great Hall, it was chaos everywhere as the wights swarmed into the keep.

Gendry swore under his breath as he used his hammer to crush one wight just as another popped up to take its place.

Next to him, Podrick’s sword was eerily graceful as it sliced through the dead. His comrade-in-arms gave a grunt of pain as one of the wights bit his wrist, but he knocked the rotting dead woman away and sent his sword swinging through her bones.

A few feet away from them, Brienne and Ser Jaime were fighting back to back, working together as if they were one person.

Gendry quickly glanced out of the corner of his eye when he heard the unmistakable voice of Samwell Tarly crying out with anguish as one of the wights stabbed poor Edd Tollett, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch right through the heart.

In a frenzy of fear and grief, Sam started stabbing wildly at the undead creature that had killed his best friend and managed to turn it into nothing but slivers of bone, skin and hair. He was so consumed in his desire for revenge that he didn’t see nor hear the other wight that snuck up on him and drove a sword through his back. 

Sam’s face twisted with agony as he gave a few short gasps for breath and fell to the ground. His body twitched a few times before the life left him and he was gone for good.

Gendry immediately snapped back to attention as more wights stormed through the gates. _‘Whatever gods are out there, please make sure that Arya is safe.’_

As he kept fighting, Gendry gave a brief shiver when he heard an unearthly sound of howling.

 _‘Do the wights control wolves now? We are so fucked.’_ He gritted his teeth and turned around to pinpoint the source of the noise.

A massive female direwolf led a pack of over three hundred wolves and they made their way to the keep, viciously attacking any wight that had the misfortune of standing in their way.

Arya was still on the ramparts shooting fiery arrow after fiery arrow into the wight army alongside Beric Dondarrion when she saw her brave direwolf return to save her people.

“Nymeria! Good girl!” she shouted as she notched another fiery arrow near a wight that tried creeping up on the massive wolf. 

Her direwolf looked up at her soul-bonded and gave a feral grin before she went back to brutally massacring the undead.

“Thank the gods your wolf returned.” The one-eyed soldier said with a smile to the young woman and she gave one in return.

“Of course. Nymeria and I are one. She knew we were in danger.” Arya said in between shooting more arrows at the wights.

“Take that!” Sandor “The Hound” Clegane yelled, coming out of the gloom to hack off the hands of several wights that were trying to come up towards the walls.

Arya’s heart dropped when she saw the remaining Others following the Night King, the group strolling in leisurely through the gates as if they had all the time in the world.

Melisandre, who was fighting with a handful of the Fiery Hand near the little group, paused in her work to turn and stare at the she-wolf of Winterfell. Arya met her eyes with no fear.

“Do you remember how I told you that you would shut many eyes forever?”

The young assassin tipped her chin up. “Yes.”

“Go help your brother Bran.” Melisandre told her before whispering something to her fellow Red Priestess and clutched her obsidian sword.

Arya didn’t trust the Red Woman as far she could throw her, but some inner voice kept nagging at her that she should listen this time and she took off in hot pursuit.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon gears up for his final battle against the Night King and a terrible secret is revealed.

The Three-Eyed Raven waited patiently for his enemy to come to him. Nearby, he heard Rhaegal’s screech of anger and knew Jon was close.

Theon and Meera were pacing in the snow, anxiously waiting for the Night King’s feared onslaught.

In the air, Bran could smell the cold that signaled the arrival of the Others and he turned his head slightly to watch as the guards entered the godswood.

Theon gave a slight tilt of his head and the ten Ironborn dipped their arrows into the flames besides them and fired them off rapidly.

Two of the impassive ice creatures gave a guttural sound that might have been a laugh as the arrows bounced easily off of their strange skin.

Theon flinched as he looked back towards Meera and Bran. The young woman took out her dragonglass dagger and moved in front of the Stark boy.

“Theon….”Bran whispered. “You were a good man. Thank you.”

He nodded, stood up straight and gave the signal for he and his men to charge. Their dragonglass weapons were no match for the Others’ brute strength and they easily killed the Ironborn.

Meera gasped and clutched at her dagger even tighter, but the Others made no move to attack her. On trembling legs, she stood in front of Bran Stark, determined to protect him until the very end.

The air grew even colder as the Night King walked into the godswood, a look of steely resolve on his face.

“Hello.” Bran said quietly from behind Meera, who turned slightly to stare at him as if he had three heads. He was far too calm for someone who might be killed in a few moments’ time.

“The Three-Eyed Raven.” The Night King spoke the Common Tongue, but his voice was raspy from not speaking for so long and a cruel sneer made his face even more terrifying.

“Leave him alone.” Meera stood her ground, hands trembling as she reached for her dagger.

The Night King threw his head back and laughed. “So now you have your mortal pet doing your dirty work for you?”

The curly-haired young woman furrowed her brow. “Bran….what is going on?”

The Other’s icy gaze caught and held her own. “He did not tell you? But of course he did not. My dear, your beloved Stark boy is long dead.”

Meera stared at him. “But…Bran is right behind me?”

The Night King laughed again. “His body is right behind you, but his soul is gone. Ever since the Three-Eyed Raven lured him into the weirwood tree, Bran’s soul slowly started to die. Once the Raven—oh, I am sorry, do you prefer to be called Brynden Rivers—lost his physical body, his soul entered Bran’s body and the boy’s soul was returned to the void. He manipulated every single one of you mortals out of a need for sheer selfishness because he wanted to get rid of the two things that could kill him—the dragons, and me.”

The Reed girl trembled from head to toe and stared at Bran. “Tell me it is not true. Please, Bran. Tell me this creature is lying.”

Bran looked up with her with a spark of mischief in his Tully blue eyes. “It is all true. I am Brynden Rivers, the Three-Eyed Raven and I thank you for your service.”

“But why?” Meera sank to her knees besides his wheelchair, overcome with grief. “You were a Targaryen loyalist.”

Bran/Brynden threw his head back and laughed. “Yes, I was--once. Until Maekor’s fool of a son Aegon V Targaryen threw me into the dungeons and gave me only two choices: death or take the Black. After all I did for him! So I manipulated people, events—including Aerys II’s madness-- so that I could rule in the body of this foolish young boy. The time of the Raven has come, my dear. My saviors arrive.”

Meera started to cry from grief knowing the boy she loved was gone. Then anger surged hot inside of her heart and a red haze filled her mind.

A little voice that sounded like the real Bran whispered that she should kill him and help end this power struggle.

On instinct, she grabbed her dagger and shoved it firmly into the heart of the body that had once belonged to Bran Stark.

“This is for Bran.” She snarled, eyes wide and feral.

The Night King was stunned and he screamed. “No! I had to be the one to kill him! You foolish girl!” 

He shoved Meera roughly into the snowdrifts behind the wheelchair and watched the dying gasps of the Three-Eyed Raven.

“Now you will be cursed to remain like this for the rest of your eternal life….unless you kill Azhor Ahai.” Brynden/Bran gasped out before his eyes fluttered shut, never to see anything again.

The creature let loose a primal roar and was so consumed in venting his rage that he didn’t even notice the small shadow that killed his generals one by one.

With a fearsome war cry, Arya jumped out of the gloom at the Night King and got in one good stab to his abdomen before he chuckled. He then slammed her hard into the ground, temporarily knocking her unconscious.

Meera yelled in fear and ran for the she-wolf in an attempt to protect her from the their mutual foe.

Just as the Night King drew his blade to kill the two women, he heard the sound of a massive dragon landing on the ramparts. Rhaegal lifted his head and roared, the sound making the icy generals shiver with fear.

The Night King raised his sword just as Jon came charging into the godswood.

 _‘Lift your sword up, and let Rhaegal bring Lightbringer into the world.’_ A voice that sounded exactly like his little brother Bran reverberated in his mind.

On instinct, he lifted Longclaw up as Rhaegal breathed fire onto the Valyrian steel, causing Lightbringer to return. The flames illuminated the two ancient opponents and the Night King sighed.

“Now it ends, Lightbringer.” The creature that was once a man told his opponent.

“What did you do to my brother?” Jon growled as he caught sight of Bran's lifeless body slumped over in his wheelchair, grey eyes glinting in the fire that was emanating from Longclaw.

“The time of the Raven is over.” The Night King whispered as he advanced slowly.

Jon stood strong and faced the Night King with tears streaming down his grimy face. “Why? Why Bran? He was just a boy.”

The Other put his hand to his abdomen in an attempt to dull the pain. “No, Jon Snow, he was not. Bran’s body was still alive, but his spirit was dead from the minute the young lady over there brought him to the weirwood cave of Brynden Rivers. He was a skilled sorcerer that managed to manipulate the remaining Children of the Forest and told lies.”

“You want to destroy humanity.” Jon’s eyes narrowed at his opponent.

The Night King shook his head. “No…and yes. I was originally created by the Children of the Forest to keep the balance, especially after they had premonitions of the rise of the world of men and the rise of the dragonlords of Valyria. I was once a man just like you until the Children and their other tool the Three-Eyed Raven cursed me. The only way to get rid of the curse was to kill my creators. Now, the Children are gone and will never return. That blasted Raven was trickier, but your little friend gave the him the true death, and all I have left of my chance to be human again is to kill Azhor Ahai.”

With the swiftness of a cat, the Night King immediately shut up and charged at Jon. He grinned, pleased that he had forced the Lightbringer to parry his blow, lest his arm get cut off.

There was a rustling of movement behind them and they both briefly glanced up to see Melisandre and five of her priests standing behind them. They started to chant in Valyrian and a ring of fire suddenly blazed to life around Jon and the Night King.

The chanting reached a crescendo as the two dueled. Jon was fueled by his rage at the loss of Bran and being manipulated by powerful beings he couldn’t understand.

He slowly gained ground as the Night King’s movements slowed. Jon heard the dying gasps of Melisandre and the remaining Red Priests as the magic sapped the last of the strength and then a slight rustling.

As Jon feigned high and struck at the Other’s leg, causing him to buckle and come crashing to the ground, Arya got up and stabbed the Night King in the shoulder at the exact same time the former King in the North stabbed his heart.

The Night King turned frigid blue eyes on Jon and his little sister, a grimace setting in on his face. He made to speak, but the blood was quickly staining the snow all around him.

His body quickly turned into ice; in the blink of an eye the ice receded and a decrepit old man that looked as if he could be related to House Stark was in his place. He moaned, reaching out a hand towards Jon just as his flesh and bones slowly disintegrated.

A gentle breeze kicked up and the remains blew away while Jon looked around in shock as the snow started to melt faster than normal.

While he was staring at the rapid change in the weather, Arya held her hand out to her brother and he took it as they surveyed the carnage just as the Sun rose. Now that the War for the Dawn was over and beyond all hope, they had survived and were ready to return to what was left of their pack.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind comments! Really happy you fine folks are enjoying this so far. :)

It felt like a lifetime before Jon managed to recover his wits after being shocked by the events in the Godswood and the fact that the Night King was finally gone.

He heard his name being called and Daenerys ran into his arms, tears staining her porcelain cheeks and blood all over her armor.

“Are you okay?” Jon took his fiancé in his arms and gave her a once-over.

“I am fine, love. Just a few cuts and bruises.” She took a deep breath. “Most of the blood is from…from…Ser Jorah. Once the wights fell dead, I searched the battlefield to make sure my commanders survived. I found him in his last gasps of breath, dying from a wound he had gotten from fighting one of the last White Walkers.” Her voice quavered as Jon gave her a big hug and a soft kiss on top of her head.

“I am so sorry, Dany. Ser Jorah was a good man and I know he would have wanted to go out no other way than fighting for you. We will bury him with high honors and place a memorial statue in his name.” The dark-haired man murmured against his fiancé’s silver hair.

Daenerys smiled through her tears. “Thank you, my love.” She pulled away from her fiancé and stared at the carnage all around her. It took her breath away and Arya put a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“What…what happened?”

“It is a very long story, and I will tell you later when we are both not so drained and full of sorrow. But…. Bran is dead. Or well, his body is dead. His soul was gone ever since he went to the cave of the Three-Eyed Raven and became possessed by Brynden Rivers’s spirit.”

Daenery’s jaw dropped. “Lord Bloodraven was the previous Three-Eyed Raven? But….how? Why?” Then she shook her head as if to clear it of all questions. “Never mind, I will find out later. It is time to meet up with the other survivors.”

The three of them locked arms to keep themselves steady and upright, fearing for who they might see amongst the dead as they walked out of the godswood and into the heart of the keep.

Jon’s heart broke when he saw the corpses of both Sam Tarly and Dolorous Edd, who lay cold and still near the rest of bodies that were once his brothers in the Night’s Watch.

To Arya’s great relief, Gendry had survived none the worse for wear. She let go of Daenerys’s arm and ran to hug her blacksmith, not caring who saw.

Her direwolf Nymeria was in the keep and she darted over to her mistress, nuzzling her leg as Arya clung to Gendry. Sandor was sitting in a corner binding up a wound in silence, studiously ignoring the corpse of Beric Dondarrion that was sprawled out a few feet away, lying next to the remains of the giant wight that he had felled.

The smell of death, blood and ashes made Daenerys’s stomach churn and she hoped against hope that Sansa, Tyrion, Grey Worm and Missandei made it through the battle unscathed.

Daenerys clutched Jon’s hand even tighter as they walked inside, although she gave a huge sigh of relief when she saw that the door to the Great Hall survived but with plenty of damage, including missing chunks of wood. The door was open, revealing an injured Lyanna Mormont and her soldiers.

Sansa was consoling the people inside, although she looked utterly relieved to see Daenerys and Jon alive and well. Tyrion was watching the Lady of Winterfell with sheer admiration in his eyes as she went from person to person, making sure that they were okay.

In the corner there were a few bodies of those unlucky enough to be standing near the door when the wights destroyed the doors, including Gilly and her son Little Sam.

Out of the mass of people, Missandei came running at Daenerys and Jon. “My Queen! Are you injured?” 

The Dragon Queen shook her head no as her throat closed up and tears threatened to flood down her face. Missandei saw her look and gave her a small nod that said she understood.

“Do you know if Grey Worm….” The question lingered in the air.

“I don’t know. Let us find out.” With a gentle squeeze to Jon’s hand, Daenerys and Missandei left the Great Hall and went out into the courtyard.

The bodies of the Red Priests made her feel sad, especially when she saw that so few survived. Her Dothraki had survived against all odds, although some of her Unsullied weren’t so lucky.

“My Queen.” Grey Worm’s voice echoed behind the Dragon Queen and her advisor.

Daenerys and Missandei whirled around, each instantly exhaling a massive sigh of relief.

“Are you okay?” The Draqon Queen asked.

Grey Worm nodded. “There are some cuts and bruises, but nothing serious.”

“How are the rest of the Unsullied?”

“Blue Rat says that 480 Unsullied were lost. The Dothraki report from Qhono that they lost around 320 of their fighting men.”

Daenerys’s heart clenched. She hated knowing that her people had perished at the hands of the Night King and his army, but she was also relieved to hear that her losses weren’t much worse. 

“If it is not too much too ask, please start assembling the dead for burial and ask Qohno to do the same. Also, please try to find Viserion’s remains. I would like to give my son a proper burial.”

Grey Worm nodded. “As you command, my Queen.” He bowed and turned back to the Unsullied.

Missandei started trembling; the realities of the war for the dead finally hitting her. Daenerys put her hand on her best friend’s shoulder. “Let us go back inside the Great Hall and discuss with Jon how best we can clean up after the battle and pay homage to the dead.”

Together, the two friends walked back to warmth inside of the Hall, each lost in their own thoughts.


	17. Chapter 17

Sansa, Meera, Arya and Daenerys were exhausted the next morning. They spent most of the day leading the clean up efforts and directed the washing of the dead in order to prepare them for their final rest.

Both Sansa and Daenerys worked side-by-side in silence as they washed and helped the Maester prepare the bodies of Theon Greyjoy and Jorah Mormont for the funeral.  
Ghost lay down nearby, his red eyes watching their every movement. He would get up once in a while to give them a reassuring nuzzle when he sensed that it was too much for them to bear.

Once it was done, Sansa and Daenerys exchanged sorrowful looks as the Dragon Queen gently touched Ser Jorah’s cheek.

“He was a good man. As was Theon.” She whispered, tears, threatening to spill down her cheeks.

The Lady of Winterfell wiped her eyes. “He suffered so much. I wish I could have done more for him.” She admitted.

Daenerys squeezed her future good-sister’s hand in sympathy. “Would you, Arya and Meera like to prepare for the funerals in my chambers? I don’t think we should be alone with our grief.”

Sansa nodded. “That would be wise, I believe.”

An hour later, the four women huddled in front of Daenerys’s mirror and dresser while Missandei fluttered around, helping her Queen to get ready.

“Would you three like me to braid your hair after I am done with Her Grace?” The advisor and handmaiden offered.

Sansa gave a small smile. “Yes, I would love that. You do excellent work with my good-sister-to-be’s hair and wardrobe. I would also appreciate it if you could give me some pointers as well, so when the two of you leave, I could teach my handmaidens.”

“Of course. I am honored that you are so appreciative of my work.” Missandei patted the Lady of Winterfell on her shoulder, seeing that she was still upset over the loss of Theon.

“Do you think you can do something simple for me?” Meera asked quietly. She’d barely spoken ever since they left the godswood the other night, clearly haunted by having to be the person that killed the body of the boy she loved dearly.

“Of course.” Missandei said before gently patting her on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry about me or my hair. I’ve never been one for elaborate hair styles.” Arya said as she pinned her chin-length locks into a simple half-pony tail.

“Mother used to have to get a servant to chase Arya around with a brush because she never sat still long enough for them to get the knots out.” Sansa teased her little sister, and both Arya and Daenerys giggled.

“My brother Viserys descended into madness due to all the stress and grief in his life, but before that…he used to brush my hair when I was a little girl.”

Arya gave Daenerys a gentle hug, sensing the older woman’s pain.

The four women got ready once more in silence. 

Arya donned a black tunic and loose fitting black pants with a grey vest with the direwolf of House Stark embroidered in the middle. To complete the look, she wore a long cloak made up entirely of the fur from a jet-black wolf.

Sansa on the other hand wore a grey dress she had made herself and a long, heavy woolen cloak that was lined with fur. Missandei had braided the top half of her hair and placed a heavy silver hairpin created to look like the sigil of her house in the middle.

Daenerys wore a long black dress with a red underskirt and her silver three-headed dragon chain over one shoulder with a heavy black cloak lined with beaver fur to keep her warm.

Missandei was dressed in a black dress with a leather corset over it and wore a heavy woolen cloak to match.

Finally, Meera wore a dark emerald green dress with knotwork embroidery in gold thread and a cloak of red fox fur.

The four women looked at each other and nodded, each of them taking a deep inhale and putting a mask of composure on their faces before they walked outside to pay their respects to the deceased.

Jon was already outside wearing his traditional black outfit with his heavy fur cloak. By his side stood Lord Howland Reed, who nodded to his daughter as she took her place by his side.

The last remaining Starks, the Dragon Queen, her advisors and Grey Worm gathered at the front of the crowd that had gathered for the funeral service.

After the surviving red priests had said a few words to help the souls pass on and the rest of the survivors chanted prayers to both the Seven and the Old Gods, it was time for pyres to be lit.

Daenerys and Jon watched dry-eyed as her deceased soldiers and his Northmen went up in flames, although they could hear sobbing coming from behind them.

“Allow me.” The Dragon Queen whispered as Jon gave her a torch and she moved over to the pyres containing the bodies of Theon Greyjoy and Ser Jorah Mormont. She looked at Sansa, and the Lady of Winterfell stepped forward.

“Thank you for being a loyal brother to me and for saving me. I can never repay you. May the Seven lead you to your much deserved eternal rest.” Sansa whispered, her voice cracking as the tears flowed and she bent down to give Theon a brief kiss on the forehead.

Daenerys touched Ser Jorah’s cheek. “My loyal old bear. You were a good man and I wish that you could have lived to be an old man, still serving your queen. You deserved better, and I will always honor your memory. Thank you for being my protector, my advisor and my friend.” 

The Queen exchanged looks with Sansa and with a deep inhale from both women, Daenerys dropped the torch on the pyre before they watched as their friends’ bodies were consumed by the flames, their faces a mask of pure sorrow.

At Jon’s quick node Gendry lit the final pyre containing Beric Dondarrion, Dolorus Edd, Melisandre and the rest.

“Thank you for your sacrifice. Be at peace.” Gendry’s voice was devoid of emotion as he put the torch down, but his eyes glittered with tears.

After that, everyone gathered around the nearby casket containing the body of Bran Stark.

“I love you, Bran.” Meera whispered as she reached out to touch his face. “I will remember you always. I am so sorry I failed to protect you. I hope you are at peace.” Her voice broke just then and the sobs overtook her.

Arya gently patted her on the back before reaching for her brother’s cold, stiff hand. “Run free with Summer, little brother.” She said in a quiet voice before dropping the torch onto Bran’s pyre.

Meera’s sobs grew louder but Arya gently took her hand and they moved to stand back in the crowd.

Jon then turned around and nodded to Lady Lyanna Mormont and four of her soldiers. The men lifted up the black casket emblazoned with the direwolf of House Stark on the top and they followed their King as he led the funeral procession for his little brother down into the crypts.

There was no statue of Bran yet, but his tomb had the base for one up and ready so when the stonecutter was finished, his youthful features would be remembered for eternity.

Ghost and Nymeria walked forward from their hiding spot in the crowd before sitting on either side of the tomb.

Daenerys’s heart ached for Jon as the body of his little brother was laid to rest. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn’t cry. Sansa and Meera were weeping openly and Arya was pale, her eyes glittering with unshed tears.

The King reached out and placed his calloused hand on top of the tomb. “Be at peace, Brandon Stark.” Jon whispered just Nymeria started to howl, echoing the family’s grief.

Once the wolf finished her song, Jon bowed his head and led the procession out of the crypts and back into the sunlight.


	18. Chapter 18

Once the pyres for the dead were finished, Jon and Daenerys stopped by Lord Howland Reed’s chambers, where he was keeping watch over his distraught daughter. The Northman knocked gentle at the door and the exhausted Lord of Greywater watch opened the door, gesturing for the royal couple to come in.

“How is she?” Daenerys asked gently, her heart breaking when she saw Lord Reed’s haggard face.

He sighed. “Not good. The master….” The crannogman trailed off as his eyes filled up with tears. He took a deep breath and then continued. “The master gave her something to calm her down, but she’s still upset.”

Jon and Daenerys glanced at one another. 

“I am so sorry, my lord.” Jon said gently. “I know this is a bad time, but I would like to have a council to discuss what happened during the Long Night in an hour’s time and if you could join us, it might help answer the questions that I know you must have.”

“I have a trusted Dothraki healer in my camp; her name is Jahel. She would be happy to watch over your daughter until your return.” The Dragon Queen offered.

Some of the sorrow lifted from Lord Reed’s face at the Queen’s kindness and he nodded. “Thank you, Your Grace. I appreciate it very much and I am sure that Meera will be in excellent care under your Jahel.”

As they left and walked back to Daenery’s chambers, the Dragon Queen let her mask fall.

“I wish I could do more for him.” She admitted, fiddling with her engagement ring.

“I do too. Seeing the man who knew my mother watching his daughter lost in an ocean of grief—the daughter who tried so hard to keep Bran safe—breaks my heart.” Jon replied, voice low.

“Mine too.” Daenerys whispered as they climbed the stairs to where her room was and she opened the door. “Please don’t leave me.” She begged, her eyes threatening to be overwhelmed by tears.

“I won’t.” Jon promised his fiancée and followed her inside, making sure to lock the door.

Daenerys sighed and sat on the bed, her husband-to-be immediately sitting down next to her so that she could curl up next to him.

“I can’t believe that he’s gone. My old bear was my first and most loyal advisor. Even when I banished him, he stayed true to me.” She buried her face in Jon’s chest and started to cry, the sorrow pouring out of her.

“He—he—fought off grey scale for me. And I led him to his death! What kind of queen am I, to do such a thing for my people? I just keep seeing his face, and the faces of both the Dothraki and Unsullied that died for me.” She admitted, her voice cracking.

Jon gently lifted her head up and then caressed her cheek. “You are a good queen. You could have chosen to go to King’s Landing for your own selfish reasons, but you didn’t. Your people know that, and followed you anyway. They love you, and they wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for their deaths.”

Daenerys looked up and gave Jon a watery smile. “Thank you, my love.” She whispered as the Northman pulled her close.

“I just wish Ser Jorah had been able to find love, in the end. He loved me in the romantic sense, but I could never return those feelings. I loved him, don’t get me wrong, but not in that way and definitely not as I love you.” The Dragon Queen put her head on Jon’s shoulder.

He gave her a soft kiss on her forehead. “I know, and I love you too. But while I was not close with Ser Jorah, I know Mormonts. Once you have their loyalty, they will stand beside you both thick and thin. Your Old Bear would have wanted to go out fighting with you, fighting beside you.”

The Dragon Queen drew in a long, shuddering breath as she wrestled with her sorrow. Jon kissed her forehead again. 

After a few long moments, Daenerys sat up straight and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Thank you. For being here with me.”

Jon cupped her cheek and gave her a long, slow kiss. “Of course. You are to be my wife. I would be a terrible husband if I did not comfort my wife when she was grieving. I will always be at your side, Dany.”

She smiled at that before Jon pulled her down so both of them were lying on their backs on the bed. Daenerys put her head on his chest, just listening to the sound of him breathing as they cuddled before the council meeting.

A half hour passed before Daenerys stirred. “We should get ready for the council meeting.”

She got up from the bed, Jon following her and paused at the mirror. Her braids were still tidy and all she had to do was smooth out her outfit for a bit.

“Ready?” Daenerys turned to look at her fiancé.

Jon took a deep breath. “As I will ever be.” He said quietly before the two of them exited the Queen’s chambers and walked down into the Great Hall.

The two of them took their places at the head of the table, waiting for the others to arrive. Sansa and Arya arrived right after them. Arya sat next to Jon while her sister sat to her left. Next came Missandei, Grey Worm, Varys and Tyrion who sat at the table in that exact order.  
Jaime, Gendry, Brienne, Sandor, Tormund and Lyanna Mormont trickled in after them, taking up the rest of the seats.

Jon nodded to everyone once they were seated. “Thank you all for coming. I know many of you have questions about the Battle for the Dawn and what happened, so I will try to answer as many of them as possible.”

He took a deep breath before continuing to explain about Bran’s unfortunate death and the Night King’s words about how Brynden “Bloodraven” Rivers had manipulated everyone—the creature himself included. Daenerys and Arya squeezed Jon’s hands whenever he had to speak of Bran, since it was clear that he was still grieving for his younger brother and their loving caresses gave him the courage to keep talking.

When he was done, Jon sat back in his chair feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted up off of his shoulder.

“Bloody hell.” Tormand’s eyes were wide and he looked as pale as a ghost.

Daenerys squeezed Jon’s hand tightly, knowing how hard it had been for her love to finish that tale. “You did well.” She whispered reassuringly and he gave her a small smile.

Arya was as still as ice while Sansa was openly crying for her brother. Lord Reed was also wiping away a few tears, his heart aching for his daughter and Ned’s son.

Lord Reed then cleared his throat and pushed his greying hair out of his eyes. “Thank you for telling us. If you will excuse me, I would like to return to my daughter’s side.”

The White Wolf of the North nodded, dark eyes filled with understanding. “Of course. Go in peace.”

After he left, Jon dismissed the council and they each went their separate ways. The future King and Queen retired to their chambers, Grey Worm and Missandei close on their heels.

“Would you like me to call a servant to bring us lunch?” Missandei asked Daenerys, her big brown looking at her queen with concern.

The Dragon Queen nodded. “Yes, thank you Missandei.” She gave a grateful smile at her friend.

Missandei quietly exited the solar and went in search of a servant. A half hour later, the lithe advisor returned with a few servants carrying up warm bread, ale, wine, grapes and sliced boar meat.

The four of them sat down to eat, each lost in their own thoughts.

Missandei broke the silence first. “In my country, we have a tradition after someone dies: we feast and tell stories to one another about their lives. I know you miss Ser Jorah and you, Lord Snow, miss your brother. I would like to hear about them, if you will.”

Daenerys eyes watered with grateful tears. _‘Dear, sweet Missandei! She knows exactly what to say to ease my grief.’_

Jon looked up and then stared down at his plate; with a deep inhale, he looked up again. “Bran was quite mischievous as a young boy; he loved to climb around Winterfell and drove Lady Catelyn to her wits end with his antics.”

Daenerys smiled. “What did he look like as a little boy?”

Now Jon smiled back at his wife. “He was a scrawny little bit of a thing, had a long, unruly mop of brown hair. Good at archery and obsessed with knights too. Read every book he could get his hands on about knights and begged Father to regale him with stories of all the knights he knew personally.”

The Queen and her two advisors chuckled at that.

“Tell me about Ser Jorah.” The Queen’s betrothed gently grabbed her hand, his dark eyes pouring into her soul.

Daenerys sighed. “He was loyal to a fault. I was a scared young girl when I met him, and was there the night my children were born. He was an excellent advisor and often forced me to see some over looked point. “She smiled at the good memories.

Soon, Missandei and Grey Worm joined in, each one sharing memories of Jorah, the Unsullied and the Dothraki that were lost as the afternoon passed.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany make an important announcement to the Northerners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind words and feedback, especially when I goofed on a fact. It's super helpful. :)

That night, Missandei and Daenerys stood side by side looking at their reflections in a mirror in the Queen's chambers. 

The Naathi scribe wore a long-sleeved maroon dress with golden embroidery at the sleeves and at the hem. Around her neck she wore a beautiful butterfly necklace that Grey Worm and Daenerys had made for her back in Essos.

Daenerys on the other hand wore a long-sleeved black dress that hugged her body with short black boots. Over the dress, Missandei carefully draped a warm maroon cloak around her Queen’s petite shoulders and attached the three-headed silver dragon pin so that it wouldn’t fall off.

For the final touch, Daenerys picked up a ruby necklace surrounded by diamonds in a V-pattern and put it on while Missandei fixed a simple silver diadem over her braids.

“Jon won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.” The advisor teased.

Daenerys laughed and turned to face her friend. “Grey Worm is going to faint when he sees you!”

The two women laughed merrily as they walked down to the Great Hall arm in arm.

Jon and his remaining family members were already there; true to Missandei’s words, the secret Targaryen couldn’t keep his eyes off his fiancé. Daenerys smirked as she sat down next to him, Missandei on her right side.

The rest of the guests trickled in by the dozens and started to sit down. Once everyone was in their proper place, Jon subtly nodded for the servants to begin passing out food and drink. The room gradually became noisier as the guests started to sip at their ale or wine while they dined on an appetizer of warm soup and salad.

Jon lifted his mug of ale and stood up, with Daenerys by his side. “My guests, we honor the living and we honor those that perished in the War for the Dawn. Let us drink a toast to them.”

After taking a huge sip of ale, Tormund stood up. “And a toast to the Dragon Queen and King Crow!”

This set off a raucous bout of cheers, interspersed with people shouting “Dragon Queen” or “The White Wolf.”

Daenerys glanced at Missandei, Grey Worm, Tyrion and Varys. Her advisors looked joyous at the shouts for their Queen, seeing it as proof that she had once and for all won the stubborn Northerners over.

She lifted her cup of wine as the cheers died down. “A toast to Jon Snow and his sister Arya Stark, the saviors of the dawn!” Daenerys added and the din was downright overwhelming as the crowd started to cheer again.

Jon gave Daenerys a quick smile before continuing. “I have further good news…I have asked Daenerys Targaryen to marry me, and she has accepted!”

There was a moment of silence and the petite blonde woman hoped that Jon knew what he was doing.

Raucous applause surrounded the room, along with shouts of “White Wolf” and “Dragon Queen.”

“I also further pledge that as your Queen, I will do everything in my power to restore the North to its former glory and make sure that the people are happy, prosperous and live in a stable country.” Daenerys added.

The noise level in the room got even louder as the crowd cheered, stamped their feet, hooted and clapped their appreciation.  
Jon and Daenerys sat back down in their chairs.

“That’s one way to break the news.” Arya teased her older brother.

The future King of the Seven Kingdoms shrugged. “I figured they would take the news better if they were a little…inebriated first.”

Sansa gave an unladylike snort of laughter at her brother’s remark. “That’s actually a very good idea.”

“Hopefully they’ll remember it come the morning.” Tyrion joined in on the conversation and everyone laughed at his remark.

“Oh, I am sure they will--at least most of it.” Daenerys added with a twinkle in her eyes.

Jon smiled at her and squeezed her hand underneath the table. Her heart swelled with so much love and gratefulness; it eased the ache in her heart over Ser Jorah’s untimely passing.

_‘My Old Bear would be so proud right now. I hope he is somewhere where he can see all this.’_

It was a relief for the Dragon Queen to openly be able to be affectionate with her fiancé. Throughout the feast, she and Jon shared soft kisses, tasted each other’s food and were able to snuggle just a little bit.

After several hours, the victory feast finally came to a close. Jon and Daenerys stood up and made their way to go back to their quarters.

During their walk, Howland Reed and his daughter bumped into them after coming in from an excursion outside. Daenerys was pleased to see Meera up and walking about, although the grief she’d suffered was still etched into her face.

“How are you, Lord and Lady Reed?” She asked.

“Better.” The petite young woman attempted a ghost of a smile. “We just wanted to tell you that we’ll be leaving tomorrow. This place has…too many memories.”

Daenerys and Jon glanced at each other.

“We understand. You need to heal.” The Dragon Queen reached out and gave Meera’s hand a gentle squeeze.

The crannogwoman squeezed the queen’s hand back. 

“If the two of you need anything, please send a raven.” Howland said, putting a hand on Jon’s shoulder in a fatherly fashion.

“Of course. Be well, Lord Reed, Lady Meera.” Jon said with a grateful nod.

The crannogman smiled before he and his daughter walked back to their chambers to continue packing for their departure tomorrow.


	20. Chapter 20

The future King and Queen slept fitfully; when Daenerys woke up that morning there were dark circles under her eyes.

Missandei gave a sympathetic look when she came in to help her friend get dressed and ready for the day. “Rough night?”

The Queen nodded. “Yes. I couldn’t keep Lady Reed’s distraught face out of my mind. My heart breaks for her. Ser Jorah was a warrior and I always knew one day his luck could run out, but poor Bran was manipulated and by an ancestor of mine.”

“I know. It is cruel that Bloodraven used him like a puppet.”

“To make things even worse, poor Meera lost her brother Jojen when he died defending who he thought was Bran against the White Walkers.” Daenerys added as she sat down in front of the vanity.

Missandei winced as she started to apply cosmetics to her Queen. “That poor woman.”

“I know, I feel terrible for her and her father. I was thinking…I want to commission a locket for Meera featuring two paintings—one of her brother and one of Bran.”

“I think that would be a wonderful gift that would help soothe her grief.” The tall advisor said as she finished up her task.

Daenerys smiled at her and then stood up. “Thank you, my friend.” She said and extended her arm so that they could walk side by side into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Once seated, the Dragon Queen discreetly leaned into her fiancé’s ear. “How are the Reeds?”

Jon turned around to face her. “They left; Meera isn’t having crying fits anymore, but I can see that the War for the Dawn broke her. I pray to the old gods that time heals her wounds.”

Daenerys nodded. “I feel the same way. I also think we should send her a gift to ease her grief.”

Her fiance’s dark brows furrowed in confusion. “Hmmm?”

“Is there a painter here? Or a jeweler?”

“Yes, we have a painter here who is quite skilled.”

“I think we should commission a painting of Jojen for Lord Reed and one of Bran for Meera.” Daenerys suggested. “It won’t replace her lost love, but it will give her comfort.

Jon smiled at her, his dark eyes glowing in the sunlight. “I like that idea. I will ask the painter to start working on it right away. Also my love, I have something I want to show you.”

Daenerys tilted her head. “Oh? What is it?”

Jon grinned at her. “It’s a surprise.”

After eating breakfast, Jon said a quick goodbye to his sisters before gently grabbing his fiancée’s hand and urging her to stand up.

“Is this the surprise?” Daenerys wondered as Jon wrapped her cloak around her before fastening his own.

“Yes.” He said cryptically, leading her out of the keep and to a massive cairn only a few feet away.

The Dragon Queen gasped, realization hitting her body like a lighting bolt. “Is that….?” She whispered.

“Yes, that is Viserion’s cairn. I saw some of the other Unsullied gathering his remains and Grey Worm mentioned that you wanted to bury your son’s remains. I suggested a cairn and ordered this to be made.” 

Here he pointed to a simple bronze plaque that read “Here lies Viserion, whose mother was Daenerys Targaryen, brother of Rhaegal and Drogon” with a massive dragon surrounding the text.

Daenerys started to cry and turned to bury her face in Jon’s chest.

“Thank you, my love. Thank you for honoring—my—no, our—son.” She sniffed.

“I’m also going to have a stone mason carve Viserion’s likeness so that all of the North can pay their respects to the mighty dragon that sacrificed his life so we could live.”

Daenerys felt her heart swell up with so much love and gratitude despite her sorrow. _‘I do not know what I did to deserve this man, but I am so happy that he is mine.’_ She lifted her head off of his chest and kissed him, long and slow.

“Thank you, my love.”

“One other thing—do you still have Ser Jorah’s sword?”

Daenerys looked up at her fiancé with an incredibly confused look. “Yes, I still have it. Why?”

“I know how much you miss your Old Bear, and I was going to suggest having the sword melted down into matching bracelets so that way you will always have something tangible to remember him by.”

The Queen’s eyes glittered with tears and she threw herself into Jon’s arms, squeezing him tightly.

“You….you…are perfect, do you know that?” She whispered.

Jon smiled, caressing her cheek. “I’m not perfect by any means, but thank you.”

The two of them strolled back to the keep, cuddling and kissing all the way.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany finds out Tyrion has been keeping some important information from her and is not thrilled to say the least.

Three days after the Battle of Winterfell, Daenerys called a meeting between the remaining Starks and her advisors to see if they could help her brainstorm a good way to take King’s Landing with a minimal amount of bloodshed.

Jon, Arya and Sansa were already in the “war planning room” as Arya had dubbed it the night before over dinner and were deep in discussion. The three of them looked up and smiled when Daenerys and her retinue arrived.

“Thank you all for being here. I know we are all tired and weary from fighting for the dawn, but I wanted us to meet so we could begin brainstorming ideas for how to take King’s Landing.”

“So I take it that bringing your dragons and raining fire and blood upon the populace is out?” Tyrion said dryly.

Daenerys chuckled at her Hand’s sarcasm. “Of course not. I may be a Targaryen, but I under no circumstances want innocents to be hurt or killed. It is not their fault that Cersei is currently sitting on my family’s throne.”

“Your Grace, there is something you should know—Cersei…is…uhm…”Ser Jaime fiddled with hands while Ser Brienne imperceptibly gave him a supportive pat on the arm.

“She’s pregnant with his child.” Tyrion finished for his brother, who glared at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” The Dragon Queen’s voice got cold.

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure if she was lying or not. Cersei’s only good trait is that she loved her children, but I also wouldn’t put it past her to lie about something like that in order to save her own hide.”

Jon could see his fiancée was getting irritated and quickly jumped in. “Well, Lord Varys, do you think you could ask your little birds to confirm whether Cersei’s trying to play her brothers or if she really is pregnant?”

“Yes, I can do that.”

“Good, and it had better be up-to-date and accurate information; I can see why my Hand and his brother would be hesitant to say if she’s lying or not, but your little birds need to get better at updating you of everything that is going on in King’s Landing and fast.” Daenerys shot her Master of Whispers a stern look and he nodded, looking contrite.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Until we find out if Cersei’s lying—and given what I’ve seen of that woman, I wouldn’t be shocked to find out if she is—we can only come up with a tentative plan.” Sansa pointed out.

Daenerys sat back in her chair with a growl of frustration.

“Well, I have an idea.” Arya leaned back, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Do tell.” Jon turned to look at her.

“I….trained with the Faceless Men. I have my ways of sneaking about unknown and undisturbed. I could take a small group to scout out King’s Landing in conjunction with Varys’s little songbirds and scope out the weaknesses.”

“Arya…”Jon opened his mouth to say more but his fiancée gently laid her hand over his and shook her head.

“I know what you are going to say brother, and quite frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck. Cersei is going down and I’m going to help however I can.” She raised her chin and stared at him.

Jon backed down first with a grumble. “Fine. Who would you take?”

“The Hound. He really wants to kill his brother and oddly, I’ve become rather fond of the grumpy git.” Arya said.

“I swore an oath to your mother to keep you safe, I’m going with you.” Brienne added.

“I will too. I don’t know what the truth is yet, but Cersei blew up the Sept of Baelor and her actions caused the death of our son. I’m going too; if the pregnancy is real, I must do what I can to protect our last child. It is not his or her fault that their mother is a monster.” Ser Jaime whispered.

“Excellent. We’re all set.” Arya smiled at the older knight.

“Your Grace, there is something my little birds have informed me of earlier today: Cersei is stockpiling wildfire.” Varys reached into his robe and pulled out a short letter from one of his spies.

Tyrion, Ser Davos and Ser Jaime visibly paled at that.

“You mean she didn’t use it up during the Battle of the Blackwater? I thought that was all you lot had left!” The Onion Knight growled at Tyrion.

“To be honest, after that battle and her stunt with the Sept, I thought she didn’t have anymore left.” He hung his head in a sheepish look.

“You neglected to inform me of this fact too?” Daenerys’s voice got low as she whipped her head around to glare at her Hand.

“Your Grace, I truly thought that she had used up the last of the wildfire with the Sept.” Tyrion whispered.

“Is this true? That she has more?” Now Daenerys turned fierce blue eyes upon Ser Jaime.

“Unfortunately, it is true Your Grace. Before I left, my sister and her Hand were planning on planting them all around the city. She wants to use the smallfolk as hostages.

Daenerys gasped and turned to look at Jon and his two sisters. They stared right back at her, appalled that someone could be so cruel.

“Holy fucking shit.” Arya swore. 

Missandei and Grey Worm looked at each other, both feeling sick to their stomachs at the thought.

“Thank you, Lord Varys of informing me of this. My lord Hand, in the future, I expect you to do better. This is a crucial piece of information that we need to defeat the Mad Queen.” Daenerys looked at Tyrion and he nodded, chastened.

“Of course, Your Grace.”

“Cersei also hired the Golden Company.” Ser Jaime added, running his fingers of his good hand through his hair.

“Shit.” This time, the cussing came from Jon.

Sansa narrowed her eyes, mind going a mile a minute. “That complicates things. My suggestion—but only if you feel up to it Jon--is revealing the truth about your parentage. Then can use Varys’ little birds to spread rumors about the good Targaryens arriving to free the smallfolk from the Mad Lioness.”

“That is a good idea, sister. I am not entirely looking forward to revealing the truth about my parents, but it must be done. What about the Northeners? How will they take this news?" Jon mused, rubbing his chin with one hand.

Sansa got a steely glint in her eyes and gave a feral wolf grin. “Leave the Northeners to me, brother. I’ll have them eating out of your hands in no time.”

“Ripping a bandage off of a wound quickly makes it hurt less.” Arya pointed out. “We have your back, brother. The pack survives, and if anyone dares to insult you or my soon to be sister, they’ll be talking to the end of Needle.”

Jon smiled at his sister’s ferocity and her words stiffened his resolve.

“What’s this all about another Targaryen?” Varys’ eyes gleamed at the thought of gossip and forbidden knowledge. 

Jon took a deep breath and exchanged a glance with his sisters. “For years, I have wondered about the identity of my mother and it always frustrated me when my father refused to talk about her. He promised me to tell the truth the next time he saw me back when he took to the Wall, but alas, he perished before he could tell me.”

Here he paused and Daenerys gave her fiancée an encouraging smile. “Now we know that my poor younger brother Bran was essentially possessed and his spirit killed by the Three-Eyed Raven, who was actually Lord Bloodraven, but though Bloodraven told many lies, his power was certain.”

Sansa and Arya’s eyes welled up with tears at the mention of Bran, but they both swallowed their grief.

“He was able to see the past and saw the truth of what happened with Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. The Dragon Prince was no brute snatching up an unwilling maiden; they were in love and ran away together. They had a child; Lyanna passed away due to complications from giving birth. That child was me.”

Lord Varys, Tyrion, Ser Jaime, Davos, Ser Brienne and Tormund all stared at him with slack jaws.

“Now, no one is going to take the word of the man who claimed to be Bran Stark and hold any stock in prophecies. But when Samwell Tarly, may his soul be at rest, was at the Citadel, he found irrefutable proof that Rhaegar had his marriage with Elia Martell annulled and took Lyanna Stark as his second wife.”

Surprisingly, Ser Jaime was the first one to recover from his shock. “I knew it.” He said, almost to himself. “I knew your father, my lord. Prince Rhaegar was a good man and I knew he’d never have the heart to kidnap an unwilling woman. It also makes sense as to why those specific members of the Kingsguard were not with him—they were protecting the heir.”

Daenerys smiled at him. “Yes, exactly.”

Tyrion leaned back in his chair and raised his wine glass to the royal couple. “I need more wine to process this.” He said as everyone laughed and the tension in the room eased a bit.

“Well, well, well. As Ser Jaime pointed out, this explains why the three Kingsguard members were in Dorne. Prince Rhaegar could have had any loyal soldiers guard Lyanna, but he chose those three because she was pregnant with another heir. I must say, I never expected Ned Stark to be so crafty. That man played us all. I am proud of him.” The Spider chuckled.

“To add to our forces to defeat Cersei, Nymeria’s pack is still out there in the woods. They won’t leave her, even though she has consented to stay with me. I am pretty sure if we go to war, I could convince her through our bond to have the wolves fight with us as they did with the Army of the Dead.” Arya pointed out.

“Plus, there were losses from both Unsullied and Dothraki, but not as many as feared. The Fiery Hand of R’hllor and Lord Reed’s men gave us a better advantage. How many men are in the Golden Company?” Daenerys looked at Lord Varys and Tyrion.

“About 20,000 men, give or take.” The youngest Lannister replied, taking another sip of mine.

“We are evenly matched, especially with Mhysa’s dragons, the wolf pack and the two direwolves.” Grey Worm pointed out. “The remaining Fiery Hand soldiers are also still here and might be open to fighting for our side.”

Daenerys leaned back in her chair and gave a big sigh of relief. “Excellent, when do you propose that we begin our march?”

Sansa looked at her friend. “I would advise letting the soldiers rest for two or three weeks. Just to let the injuries heal and get them back into fighting shape. I know you would likely want to march as soon as possible, but it is probably better to wait a bit.”

The Dragon Queen nodded. “As much as I would like to see Cersei off that throne now, the Lady of Winterfell makes a good point. We will rest for three weeks and keep discussing plans for the taking of King’s Landing.”

“Lord Varys, let your little birds sing all around Westeros about how the two Targaryens fought bravely in the Battle for the Dawn, risking their own lives to save others. Keep hammering the point home that Daenerys is a savior who has freed hundreds of slaves and is a champion for the smallfolk. Let them know Rhaegar still has a son left, and let them sow discord by reminding them of Cersei’s awful deeds.” Sansa added, turning to address the Spider with an ice-cold glint in her eye.

“My lady, you have a brilliant mind and know how to play the game well. I like that idea. I would also recommend telling them about the wildfire stocked in King’s Landing; perhaps we can evacuate as many people as possible before we attack. Cersei is, after all, brutal enough to set the entire city on fire out of sheer spite.” Tyrion smiled at his former wife, who gave a faint blush and smiled back.

Lord Varys smirked. “It will be done.”

“Excellent. Let us reconvene at the end of the week to see if there is any more news and start planning the march. Thank you for your time; please enjoy the rest of your day.” Daenerys stood up from her chair, Jon following her as they walked to the door.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Arya have a gift for Dany.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I based Dany's wedding dress on Neo-Queen Serenity's dress, with a few modifications.

Sansa and Arya walked quickly to keep up with the Dragon Queen’s long strides as she walked with Jon out of the room once the council meeting was finished.

“Dany, I have a surprise for you.” The redheaded Stark woman said with a big smile.

“Ooooooh.” Jon teased and his sister rolled her eyes. 

“It is not for you to see it! Go out and practice with Tormund or spend time with Ghost.” She gave him a gentle shove and he laughed before kissing Daenerys on the cheek.

“Very well, keep your little secrets. I’ll see you later, my love.”

Sansa led her younger sister and her future sister-in-law down the halls until they reached her solar. She opened the door and told Daenerys to close her eyes. Amused, Daenerys did as she was told and Sansa took her by the hand and led her into the room.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.” There was a hint of laughter in the older Stark woman’s voice as Arya closed the door.

Daenerys opened them and gasped. Standing on a mannequin was the most gorgeous dress she had ever seen in her entire life. Made of heavy white silk, the skirts were full and surrounded the waist with beautiful silver embroidery that sparkled when the sunlight streamed through the window and there was a white bow in the back.

The sleeves hung a little bit off of the shoulders and flared into long wings at the end while embroidered silver dragons danced elegantly along the neckline. On top of this ensemble was a beautiful fur cloak made from the fur of a white wolf held together by a silver pin in the shape of the sigil of House Targaryen.

Daenerys couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. “Is this….”

Sansa grinned. “Yes, this is your wedding dress. Once you announced the betrothal during our family dinner, I went to Missandei the next day to ask for your measurements. I know you grew up with a horrible brother, and I wanted to make this myself as a way to welcome you into the Stark pack.”

“Sansa, this dress is beautiful! Thank you so much!” Daenerys engulfed Sansa in a big hug before turning to hug Arya.

“You’re very welcome, sister. I must admit, making the wedding dress was therapeutic for me, especially after learning Bran and Theon’s fate.” Sansa admitted, her voice cracking a little.

“It breaks my heart knowing Bran was manipulated by a distant relative of mine.”

Sansa shook her head. “It is not your fault. From everything Jon told us, it sounds as if Lord Bloodraven was a master manipulator and he was hell bent on destroying the Targaryen line for what he perceived was slights against him. Plus, the power of the Three-Eyed Raven corrupted him further.”

“Aye. I miss Bran and I would kill Bloodraven all over again if I could get my hands on him, but this isn’t your fault. We were all played by two unearthly forces and there really was no way for us to know.”

“True. I still feel guilty though.” Daenerys admitted.

“Don’t. I for one am devastated at the loss of my brother—“ Arya blinked back unshed tears—“but I am so grateful to have you as my soon-to-be sister. The pack survives.”

“It does. Wolves, a dragon and a dragon-wolf. We will stick together and make our loved ones who passed proud of us.” Sansa told her friend.

“I am so grateful to be part of your family. I always did long for a large family of my own.” The Dragon Queen admitted.

“So, when are you and Jon going to get hitched? Before or after you dethrone the Mad Queen?” Arya smirked at her.

“I….actually haven’t really thought of that.” Daenerys admitted sheepishly.

“It is up to you, I will not pressure you either way, but I will point this out: in terms of image, it would look much better if you and Jon married in the Godswood sometime soon. It will endear the two of you even further to the Northerners. Plus, being a unified royal couple could also sway opinions to our favor in the South too.”

Daenerys bit her lip as she thought about it but decided that Sansa had a very good point. “I will talk to Jon about it.”

“Excellent. I already have a few ideas about the celebration feast.” The red-head wiggled her eyebrows and the two other women laughed.

“I would be lost without the two of you!” Daenerys chuckled, hugging them both in turn before the conversation turned to talk of lighter subjects.

Later on that day, the Dragon Queen was sitting on her bed chatting with Missandei about the wedding dress Sansa had made when there was a knock on the door. The tall Naathi woman stood up and opened it; standing there was Jon with a big smile on his face and his hands behind his back.

“Come in, come in.” Missandei said and made to leave. “I will see you later, my queen.”

“Give Grey Worm my regards!” Daenerys teased, giggling at how her friend blushed and laughed as she went out of the room.

“What brings you here, my love?” The Dragon Queen turned her attention to her fiancée.

“I have a present for you.” Jon brought his hands forward to reveal a small wooden box carved with the sigil of House Mormont on the top. “Look.” He removed the top to reveal the bracelets he had promised to make for her.

Daenerys felt tears leak from her eyes and she sniffled as she took the chest to admire her new jewelry. “Jon, this is beautiful. Thank you so much.” She was pleased to see that the sigil of House Mormont and the sigil of House Targaryen were entwined in a beautiful carving on the bracelets.

“You are very welcome.” Jon sat down on the bed with her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

She snuggled closer to him, setting the chest down next to her on the bed. “Sansa is dropping hints at a wedding. I did promise her I would ask you, so…do you want to get married sometime soon, at your home, or would you prefer we wait until the Iron Throne is ours?”

Jon kissed the top of her head and started lazily playing with strands of her long, wavy hair. “Well, soon enough everyone in Westeros is going to know about my parents.” He quipped. “To be honest, I would like to marry you here, in the Godswood. We can have a more elaborate celebration if you want later in King’s Landing. You know me, I am not one for pageantry and I despise large ceremonies, but I also know that I am going to be a ruler and there’s no escaping from it.”

Daenerys looked up at him and smiled before leaning for a long, slow passionate kiss. When they parted, she had a twinkle in her eye. “We best tell Sansa soon; I know she is going to want to go all out in her planning.”

“True. Otherwise, I’ll never hear the end of it from her.” Jon laughed.

“Oh, of that I have no doubt. Now, since we have the rest of the day to ourselves, why don’t we visit Rhaegal and Drogon? It is a nice day for flying.”

“After you, my Queen.” Jon gently helped Daenerys stand up and the two of them left the room walking hand-in-hand.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany and Jon get hitched.

Daenerys sat quietly in her carved wooden chair in front of her vanity while Arya, Sansa and Missandei flitted about. 

It have been five days since the Queen had confirmed to the Lady of Winterfell that Jon was keen on marrying as soon as possible and the Red Wolf put together a wonderful celebration, or so her little sister claimed.

“Don’t look so glum, it is your wedding day.” Arya teased, nudging Daenerys in the shoulder while her direwolf huffed from her comfortable spot on the floor, clearly annoyed that her nap was ruined by all the hustle and bustle.

“I am sorry, my mind wandered.” She gave an apologetic look to her soon-to-be sister.

“No worries. Now, stand up so we can get you into this monster of a dress.” Arya grinned at Sansa just as she entered the room with the wedding dress and the matching cloak.

Daenerys slid out of her robe, leaving her standing only in her smallclothes. She felt a bit awkward with Sansa and Arya seeing her like this, but both women were nonplussed.

Missandei and Sansa helped Daenerys step into the dress and worked swiftly to tie the laces in the back.

“Sit.” Arya led her back to the wooden chair so Missandei could braid her hair and Sansa could pick out the proper accessories.

“Here, put the bracelets on.” The younger she-wolf handed her the steel bracelets Jon had given her.

Meanwhile, Sansa was scrutinizing all of Daenerys’s jewelry with a stern look on her face as if it had personally offended her. She would pick one up, eye it, and then put it back down muttering to herself. 

Missandei giggled as she watched the tableaux out of the corner of her eyes while braiding her friend’s hair. Her skilled fingers wove the silvery locks with ease and soon, Daenerys’s hair was pulled back into a half-pony tail that turned into a spider web of intricate braid patterns while the rest fell fetchingly over her shoulders.

“There.” Missandei turned to pick up the silver and ruby crown that molded to look like three entwined dragons. 

“And this to go with it.” Sansa beamed as she fastened a heavy silver necklace woven into intricate knots held together by moonstones, opals, and diamonds.

Daenerys looked at her reflection in the mirror, surrounded by the three smiling women and almost cried.

“Thank you. All of you. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She whispered.

“You’re our sister now, and we’re a pack. Now go out there and make my brother happy.” Arya teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Sansa and Missandei hugged her.

“You look so beautiful. I’m so happy you liked my dress.” Sansa was as giddy as a child.

“You did excellent work, sister. I’m so proud and honored to wear such an exquisite piece of art.” Daenerys took her hands and gave them a slight squeeze.

Arya grinned at her two sisters’ sappiness and shook her head. “Let’s go, you lot. I can’t wait to see Jon’s expression when he sees you in this dress. He’s going to faint. C’mon Nymeria, don’t be such a sleepyhead.” She turned to the direwolf with a slight scowl.

The massive grey direwolf grumbled at her owner before giving herself a good shake and standing up. The four women and the canine left the Daenery’s rooms and walked down the stairs, heading for the Godswood.

The Dragon Queen’s heart was pounding furiously, a mix of excitement and nerves running through her veins and setting her body on fire.

Whispers of cold air wrapped around Daenerys as she and her retinue stepped outside, making her cloak flow out behind her. The smell of burning torches got stronger as they stepped into the Godswood and all of the folks assembled turned almost as if in unison to look at her.

The Queen lifted her head up high and focused her sights on Jon, standing by the weirwood tree. Her dashing King was dressed in a black outfit emblazoned with the sigil of House Targaryen and he wore a rich auburn fur cloak with a howling direwolf pinned in the front. His hair fell long and loose about his face, which sent Daenerys’s heart fluttering. She loved it when he left his hair down.

Ghost stood right next to him and gave Daenerys a big, happy canine grin. _‘He sure is happy that I am officially his new mother.’_ She thought, trying to hide her smile at such a silly, random thought.

Next to Jon and his direwolf stood Tyrion, clad in a gorgeous gold silk tunic with a dark red leather vest over it. He was to the right of Ser Davos, who celebrated the occasion by wearing a long green wool cloak and a handsome brown tunic with simple gold embroidery at the bottom and ever-faithful Grey Worm, clad in his Unsullied armor.

Daenerys felt her nerves calm at the sight of her future husband and she walked sedately down the lit path to the weirwood tree, inwardly grinning at the fact that Jon couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

Once she reached Jon, she stood next to him with Sansa, Arya and Missandei by her side.

Sansa and Ser Davos stepped away from their respective groups to officiate the wedding.

“In the light near the weirwood tree, in this sacred godswood, two people have come to be joined in marriage under the eyes of the Old Gods. Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” Sansa’s voice rang out like a bell.

“Jon Snow, also known as Jaeherys Targaryen of the Houses Stark and Targaryen stands before the Old Ones tonight and begs of their blessing. Welcome, Jon Snow, better known as Jaeherys Targaryen.” The Onion Knight responded.

Ser Davos took a deep breath before continuing. “Who comes before the Old Gods on this night?”

“Daenerys of House Targaryen comes before the Old Ones and asks them to bless her marriage.” The Lady of Winterfell replied.

“Jon Snow has claimed this woman. Daenerys Targaryen, do you consent?” The Onion Knight’s voice was thick with emotion.

Daenerys and Sansa shared a quick smile before the Dragon Queen nodded. “I do.”

Jon reached out for Daenerys’s delicate wrist and tied a silver and grey ribbon around it, to symbolize House Stark. After he was done, she tied a red and black ribbon around his left wrist.

“Old Gods, hear our plea: bring to Jon and Daenerys a long, healthy and happy union. Long may they reign!” Ser Davos and Sansa chanted in unison while the audience cheered and stamped their feet.

Daenerys felt butterflies in her stomach as Jon gently cupped her chin and gave her a long, slow kiss to seal their vows. When they looked up, Arya was watching them with a mock-disgusted look that almost had them laughing in front of the entire crowd.

Thankfully, the ending of the marriage ceremony started and saved both of them from embarrassing themselves at their own wedding. Jon and Daenerys clasped hands and walked down the aisle, the audience around them clapping and whooping as they followed them into the Great Hall.


	24. Chapter 24

Daenerys couldn’t help but reflect on how different the reception to her wedding had been from the first time she met the Northerners.

 _‘I despaired of ever winning their love or their trust, and now look at them.’_ Her heart swelled with happiness as she watched the Northerners mix and mingle with the Dothraki, Unsullied, wildlings and the knights of the Vale as they entered the room. 

“What are you thinking about, my love?” Jon whispered in her ear and she shivered, unable to truly believe that she was married to such a wonderful man.

Daenerys turned to him. “I have been married before, you know that. This time though, I can’t believe that I was lucky enough to find such a wonderful man that is kind, compassionate and smart.”

Jon blushed and kissed her hand. “Aye, I keep thinkin’ that I must be dreaming. The little boy that was brought up as Ned Stark’s bastard would never believe if if someone told him that one day he’d marryin’ the Dragon Queen, a woman who is a passionate, full of compassion and feisty as the seven hells and is also secretly the son of the Dragon Prince. I got very, very lucky when I met you.”

Daenery’s heart gave a little flutter; she loved this man so much and she was overjoyed that he had chosen to be by her side for better or for worse.

“Look—they are walking and talking amongst themselves freely. I’m so happy to see that.” She nudged her chin in the direction of Tormund who was trying to talk poor Ser Brienne’s ear off while Ser Jaime glared daggers at the Wildling’s pathetic attempts at flirting.

Arya, Gendry, Sansa, Tyrion, Missandei and Grey Worm were off to the side laughing about some joke the Hand had told, no doubt.

“You are truly a miracle worker, Dany. I am so proud of you, and of my people. I won’t lie to you, my love—I was afraid the Northerners’ prickly pride would still be in full force after the battle of Winterfell, but I am pleased to see that they remember the old saying that ‘the North Remembers.’ It is about time!” His dark grey eyes twinkled.

Daenerys snickered and took a sip of wine to hide her smile. “I was afraid of the exact same thing, but turns out that we were both pleasantly surprised.”

Jon kissed her cheek just as the servants brought out the first course.

“Those two….” Tyrion shook his head at the King and Queen.

“Hmmm?” Sansa raised one eyebrow as she turned from the conversation she was having with Arya and Gendry.

“They are perfect for one another. Besides from lemon cakes, I do not think I have seen anything so disgustingly sweet as those two.” The Imp joked.

“First of all, lemon cakes aren’t that sweet, you just don’t have the palate for it.” Sansa smirked as he blinked in surprise at her sassy retort. “Second of all, yes, Jon and Dany are very sweet together. I am happy for both of them, they deserve it.” Her tone turned wistful.

“A coin for your thoughts?” Tyrion noticed the Lady of Winterfell’s sudden change in mood.

She shrugged. “I am so happy for Jon, but for Dany too. She told me about her early life, what she lived through. I am glad—but a bit jealous too, if I am honest—that she found a good husband that is the antithesis of the abusive men she had to deal with before.”

The Lannister reached out and gave Sansa’s hand a gentle squeeze; he had heard rumors of what that sick fuck Ramsay Bolton had done to the Stark woman and he desperately hoped that the bastard was currently rotting in the lowest of the seven hells.

“My lady, you have suffered through many horrors and seen the very worst of humanity. But I swear to you, one day you will find happiness after your trust has healed. You will find someone, and they will be honorable and kind to you.” He told her earnestly.

Sansa blushed and looked down at their entwined hands. “Out of all of my husbands, you were the best of them, Tyrion.”

Now it was Tyrion’s turn to blush, though he tried to hide it by immediately removing his hand and giving a cheeky reply. “I tried.”

The moment passed as Sansa tossed her long hair back as she laughed uproariously. “I have forgotten how humorous you are, my Lord Hand. I am anxiously awaiting for your reaction to seeing those two dance.” Her eyes glittered with laughter as she pointed in the direction of Arya and Gendry, who were attempting to navigate the dance floor.

“Are they…are….they…drunk?” Tyrion tilted his head to the side like an inquisitive cat as the young couple whirled and spun in time to the musicians, with much cursing on Arya’s part as she stepped on Gendry’s toes every fine minutes.

“I’d imagine so, Arya hates dancing. For someone who is a skilled swordswoman, I can’t for the life of me figure out how she has two left feet.” Sansa giggled. “But I am happy for her. Gendry seems like a nice young lad and Gods know she deserves it after all she went through.”

“True…but still…their footwork is hilariously bad. Ah well, young love. Doubt they’ll notice it until tomorrow when they have black and blues all over their toes.” He quipped and Sansa gave an unlady like snort of laughter. 

“Oh look, this is interesting—Grey Worm and Missandei are dancing now too. This day will go down in history as the day the Unsullied showed off their fancy footwork.” Tyrion grinned at Sansa and she grinned back.

“So, do you think that your brother is in love with my sworn sword?” Sansa asked as she noticed Jaime give a huge sigh of relief as a drunk Tormund wandered off to flirt with a Dothraki woman before asking Brienne to join him for a dance.

“Oho, you noticed that too? Excellent eyes, my lady; between you and I, Jaime looks to be head over heels for Brienne but I don’t think he has realized what he is feeling until now.”

“Given his previous relationship, I can’t say that I am surprised, my lord Hand. But if looks could kill than poor Tormund would be six feet under the ground.”

Tyrion laughed at her joke before taking another long sip of his wine. “Agreed. I give it three weeks or less before my obtuse brother gets the hint.”

Sansa laughed as the two of them settled back into their chairs to watch the crowd with amusement and happiness in their eyes.

The night wore on and Jon was starting to fidget in his chair because he was feeling restless. “Let’s get out of here.”

Daenerys gave him a wicked smile. “Any ideas on how to create a diversion?

He stood up and raised his glass of wine. “My lords and ladies, thank you for attending my wedding ceremony and the reception. My wife and I are tired from the festivities and wish to retire.”

Daenerys also stood and raised her own glass. “We wish you all a good night.”

The crowd stamped their feet and began shouting bawdy jokes that they wouldn’t have dared to make if it was any other event other than a wedding.

Daenerys and Jon both took a last sip of wine before setting their glasses down and leaving the room as fast as their dignity would allow them.

“I had the servants bring your belongs to my room as the wedding was going one.” Jon admitted as they walked towards his chamber.

Daenerys smiled. “I am so happy we don’t have to sneak around anymore for fear of upsetting people. I look forward to waking up every single day next to you.”

“Aye, I feel the exact same way.” Jon growled as they reached their chamber and he shoved the door open before quickly locking it. He gave another low growl and pulled his new wife into a passionate kiss that let her know the two of them probably weren’t going to get any sleep that night.

Daenerys giggled as they rested for a minute to get some air before pulling him close and kissing him senseless.


	25. Chapter 25

Two days after the wedding, Daenerys and Jon called for a joint council meeting. The newlyweds were already sitting in the King’s solar with Ghost lounging by their feet when everyone arrived.

“First things first, we need to take out Euron Greyjoy. Yara wrote to me the other day to let me know that she received the urn containing her brother’s ashes. She also mentioned that she returned to Pyke and managed to convince the rest of the Ironborn to fight for her, but her fleet is smaller than Euron’s. How can we defeat this man?” Daenerys asked.

“I’ve met Euron in King’s Landing. He is a braggart, a buffoon and has more hubris than he knows what to do with.” Ser Jaime growled, blue eyes flashing with anger. 

Brienne was sitting next to him and put her hand on his in an attempt to calm him down. He glanced her way, threw her a grateful smile and took a deep breath to calm himself down.

“How are Rhaegal and Drogon feeling? I know your children were wounded in the fight against the Night King.” Arya asked, turning to her new sister.

“Their wounds have thankfully healed very quickly, and both of my sons are as good as new. I am forever grateful for the fact that dragons heal quite fast.”

“Excellent! So, I have an idea—Rhaegal and Drogon may be bloody humongous, but they are also quite stealthy, right? Perhaps you and Jon can fly over them at night time and take out their ships with Yara’s help.” The younger she-wolf suggested, petting Nymeria’s head.

Jon and Daenerys shared a look, both obviously impressed. 

“Now that’s an idea.” He mused as he scrubbed his beard with the palm of his hand, thinking hard.

“Lord Varys, do we know where the ships are located?” Missandei asked him.

“The last I heard, they were staying close to King’s Landing and preparing for an attack. I will have my little birds double-check this information though so we are not caught unawares. Also, I have some important information to share.” The Spider leaned back in his chair and produced two scrolls.

“I dislike being the bearer of bad news, but this concerns the Lannister queen: one of my little birds stationed in the Red Keep wrote to me three days ago: Cersei had a miscarriage and has been distraught ever since.”

Ser Jaime felt as if someone had punched him in the chest and he shared an agonized look with Tyrion. Next to him, the ever-constant Brienne entwined her hand with his and started caressing the skin with her thumb.

Tears threatened to overflow, but Brienne’s quiet presence was a balm for his sorrow as he struggled to keep his composure.   
“Th-thank you, for letting me know.” Ser Jaime whispered.

“Unfortunately, my little birds have also mentioned that Cersei and her Hand Qyburn are still fully dedicated to blowing up King’s Landing with wildfire. She is stockpiling it in both the Red Keep and certain locations around the city; thankfully, I have a list of the places where it will be. She is also preparing to starve the city out and blame it on you, Your Grace.” He gave a slight nod at Daenerys.

“Evil bitch.” Arya muttered as she fiddled with Catspaw underneath the table. 

“There is some good news that my little birds have brought to me though—the ravens I sent out revealing Your Grace’s true parentage have been well received in some areas. Prince Doran’s daughter Arianne Martell and her older brother Quentyn have stepped out of hiding and declared for the Targaryens.”

“Really? I am surprised, I thought House Martell might be cautious given everything that went down between Elia, Rhaegar and Aunt Lyanna.” Sansa crinkled her nose in surprise.

The Spider shrugged. “So one would think, but it appears that they hate the Lannisters for what they have done and would rather support Elia’s stepson than let their enemies go without justice. The Stormlands have also responded favorably, and there are rumblings in the Reach too. Lord Willas Tyrell and his brother Garland are the last surviving members of House Tyrell and are determined to support Your Graces, just as the late Lady Olenna did.”

“Will they send forces to us?” Daenerys asked.

“The Stormlands, I am not so sure. We might have to send Gendry with some of our ships to rally them, especially since he is a Baratheon now and is also technically a cousin to Your Graces. House Tyrell doesn’t have much of an army at the moment, but they will send whatever men and food they can. House Martell will send us their forces.”

“Fantastic.” Daenerys sat back in her chair with a satisfied smile. “Now, when should our march begin? Grey Worm, Missandei, how are the Unsullied and the Dothraki?”

The stern Captain turned in his seat to look at his queen. “The Unsullied are almost entirely healed, save for a few minor scrapes and bruises. Missandei says the Dothraki report similar results.”

“I also spoke to the Fiery Hand, or rather, what’s left of them, and they are quite keen on helping Your Grace take King’s Landing.” The Naathi advisor reassured her friend.

“Tormund, how are the Wildlings? Will they even fight for us?” Jon’s eyes filled with anxiety.

The big bear of a man tossed his head back and gave a short bark of a laugh. “King Crow, don’t ya know that my people can’t stop talkin’ about you and your Dragon Queen? They think you two are like gods on Earth. Of course we’re going to help you with this fight. Wouldn’t want to miss all the fun.”

“I am happy to tell you brother that our Northmen are feeling quite refreshed and any injuries they sustained during the Battle of Winterfell are either healed or almost there. They are also ready, willing and able to fight for Your Graces since they are keen on making sure Cersei is repaid for all the damage she wrought.” Sansa added.

“Good, good.” Jon turned his eyes back to the map of Westeros before him, stroking his beard as he thought. “Is there a way we can disable the wildfire?”

Lord Varys thought for a second. “There are tunnels in and out of King’s Landing that are unused, except for my little birds and Qyburn’s spies. If we take out Qyburn and his allies, then we have a good chance of making sure it doesn’t go off.”

“So…we need to take out Qyburn?” Arya looked at the Spider and gave a wolfish smile. “Leave that to me.”

“Do you think you can get your spies to take out Qyburn’s spies?” Tyrion asked.

“We would have to be very careful, but I think I can.”

“I would say tell them to start the day we march down to King’s Landing. That way it gives us enough time to neutralize the threat of wildfire and it’s slow, which won’t rouse their suspicions.”

“Yes, plus if we send Gendry to rally the Stormlands, it will be a good distraction for Cersei and Qyburn.” Sansa added, giving her new sister a smile.

“I can do that.” Gendry said with a bit more courage than he felt.

“While you are doing all this, my group can head down to King’s Landing. We should leave day after tomorrow; it will increase our speed.” Arya looked to Jaime, Brienne and Sandor; all three of them gave her tiny nods in return.

“Lord Varys, what have your little birds said about Jon’s heritage? Any reactions?” Sansa asked as she leaned back a little bit in order to soothe her back.

“Mostly there were mainly responses of surprise but a few don’t believe it; that is to be expected though. The Golden Company in particular definitely doesn’t buy it and claims it is a trick thanks to Cersei. However, many of the smallfolk believe it and there have been many grumblings against the Lannister Queen." Varys replied.

Jon frowned, his eyebrows tightening with stress. “I suppose we will have to meet the Golden Company in battle, then.”

“Yes, we will. That being said, another idea I had is that perhaps we can even bring some food to King’s Landing and hand it out in Your Graces’ names via smugglers.”The bald man added.

“That could definitely help since it will also provide a distraction for Cersei and Qyburn so they don’t notice our side disabling the wildfire catches. The more issues we can give them to focus on, the better off we will be.” Daenerys mused.

“Once our troops arrive at King’s Landing, we can take precautions just in case our plan with the wildfire catches goes wrong. I would recommend that Daenerys and I use Rhaegal and Drogon to burn down the walls of the city to let our armies enter and give us the element of surprise.” Jon said.

Ser Jaime nodded. “Excellent idea; if House Martell and House Tyrell make good on their promises, we will outnumber the Golden Company and the rest of Cersei’s troops.”

Daenerys and Jon exchanged hopeful looks; the Dragon Queen could feel it in her bones that with this plan, they would not be able to fail.

“Excellent. Grey Worm, Qhono, tell the Unsullied and the Dothraki that we begin to march for King’s Landing in five days' time. Lord Varys, please find some loyal smugglers willing to take the food in while you, Tyrion, inform our allies of our plans. Gendry, I want you and Ser Davos to be ready to leave for the Stormlands the day before we leave, just to be safe.”

“It will be done, your Grace.” Gendry bowed his head.

“With any luck, in two months’ time, Cersei will be off the throne and we will finally have some peace in this kingdom.” Daenerys said, giving her friends, family and advisors a tired smile. “Meeting adjourned.”

“From your mouth to the gods’ ears.” Tormund grinned at her as everyone got up at once and started to leave.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime reacts to the news that Cersei miscarried and Gendry makes a proposal.

Arya was packing for King’s Landing when she heard a knock on her door and opened it, pleasantly surprised to see Gendry standing there.

“Come in. What brings you here?” She asked.

“I…have something I wanted to give you.” The dark-haired bull of a man blushed fiercely as he handed her a hastily wrapped package.

Arya raised one eyebrow in amusement and easily tore away the paper, gasping when she saw what it was: a beautiful silver dagger with a bone handle. Engraved in the handle was a lithe she-wolf running alongside a proud stag.

“Gendry….this is beautiful.” She looked up at him, blinking back tears.

“I know you’re determined to kill Cersei and it breaks my heart that I can’t be with you in King’s Landing to watch your back, so I wanted to give you this to take with you. Figure it’ll ease my mind knowing you have my dagger to help keep yourself safe.”

Arya smiled and ran into his arms impulsively, wrapping her arms around his strong midsection and inhaling his scent. “I love it, and I will wear it with pride.”

Gendry gently pulled her off and went down on one knee. “Look…I know you say you are not a lady. Gods know I’m no lord and now I’m a Baratheon. But if we survive this war, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? We can both break the mold of nobility together, if you’d like.”

Arya couldn’t stop the silly grin from spreading over her face; Gendry knew her too well. She pulled him up to his full height and stood on her tiptoes to give him a long, searing kiss.

Gendry laughed when they parted to take a breather. “I take that as a yes, m’lady?”

The tiny she-wolf snorted. “Perceptive now, aren’t you, bull-head?”

They both chuckled and Gendry gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “Do you need help packing?”

“No, not really, but stay anyway. I’d like the company.”

“Are you going to take Nymeria? It seems as if she and her pack have taken a liking to you.”

“I am. I asked Nymeria after the meeting was over and this may sound silly, but I could tell that she was up for it and that there was no way in any of the seven hells that she’d leave my side again. And where she goes, her pack goes, so….we’ll have a wolf army to help us.”

“I must admit, I feel a bit better about you going off to King’s Landing with your direwolf and your pack. At least you’ll have some extra backup.” Gendry smiled at her as she tossed in extra clothes in her satchel at random.

As the couple talked in Arya’s quarters, Ser Jaime was pacing about his quarters and attempting to pack. A knock on his door made him whirl around, but he relaxed when he opened the door and found Brienne watching him with a look of concern in her big blue eyes.

“What are you doing here?” His tone was brusque and he averted his eyes.

Brienne raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. “I am worried about you. I was there when Lord Varys announced what happened to your child and I saw your reaction. We are friends, are we not? This is what friends do!”

The lady knight’s brutal honesty made Jaime feel ashamed of his behavior and he nodded. “Forgive me, my emotions are all over the place. Come in.”

Jaime pulled out an extra chair and gestured for Brienne to sit.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked softly. “I know it is difficult, but it might make you feel better.”

Jaime was about to say no, but then he thought better of it. _‘It is Brienne, she won’t judge. She’s also got a wonderful calming presence.’_ He sighed and sat down on the bed, tapping the mattress to show her she should sit next to her.

“My emotions feel jumbled.” He admitted, running his good hang through his shaggy blonde hair. “I have no love left for Cersei, but aside from Joffrey, our children were innocent. I still feel incredibly guilty for what happened to Myrcella and sorrow for Tommen’s end. I just wish that this baby could have been carried to term and have a better life than its siblings. This was my last chance for fatherhood.”

Brienne shook her head. “No, not the last. We will both live through the Last War and you will find love again.”

Jaime gave her a half-smile as he looked at her, so earnest in her conviction. “Do you really think so? Who would want to marry the Kingslayer and the lover of the Mad Queen?”

The tall knight rolled her eyes and gave a snort of exasperation. “When will you ever see yourself clearly, Jaime? You have made mistakes, but fundamentally, you are a good man. I’ve seen the Northerners treat you with more respect after the Long Night and you have won the trust of the future King and Queen. You, my friend, are a good man.” 

Jaime’s heart swelled with an unknown emotion at her words. _‘How did I get so lucky to find someone as understanding and patient as the Evenstar’s daughter?’_

“Thank you….your words do soothe me.” He said.

“And how do you feel about us confronting your sister? I know that cannot be easy.” Brienne asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It sounds strange, but sometimes I feel conflicted. Cersei has gone mad, just like Aerys and I cannot stand by and let my sister kill innocents. But then I remember how sweet she was as a child or how fiery she was as a teenager and my heart breaks to the point I want to start sobbing and never stop.”

Brienne squeezed his shoulder. “That, to me, is understandable. You loathe the woman she has become but mourn the woman she once was, so many years ago.”

Jaime leaned his head close to Brienne’s, surprised but not entirely surprised that she was able to see the turmoil in his soul and put it into words. _‘She really is extraordinarily perceptive.’_

“Yes, exactly.”

Brienne sighed and put her head on his shoulder. “If you would like to discuss some of the happier memories, I would be willing to listen. Listening to my father tell stories of my mother always helped me when I grieved for her.”

Jaime smiled. “Not yet, but thank you for the offer. I do appreciate it. However…would you mind telling me some of those stories? My mind is too busy right now.”

“Of course.” Brienne leaned back against the wall to get comfortable and began her narration. 

As she told her stories, Jaime felt the stress and turmoil inside him begin to dissipate while his heart grew even fonder of the lady knight.


	27. Chapter 27

Arya stood before Gendry and Davos in the courtyard of Winterfell.

“Be safe.” The blue-eyed smith warned his fiancée.

“You too, you stubborn bull.” She teased him and he gave her a small smile before pulling her into a big hug.

“Keep an eye out for him.” She warned Davos.

“Always.” He promised her and she smiled, moving on to say her goodbyes to her family.

Sansa gave her sister a big hug. “I am going to miss you, but please, come back. The pack needs to survive.”

“I don’t plan on dying, sister. I will bring justice for our House.” Arya promised her.

Next, she gave Jon and Daenerys a big hug. “We’ll be in touch, brother. I promise I will stay safe. I’ll have Nymeria and her pack with us, after all.”

Jon chuckled at that. “Good luck, little sister.”

Daenerys smiled at Arya after the two embraced. “Remember…all men must die, but we are not men.”

“No, we are not. Good hunting, sister. Give Drogon and Rhaegal pets from their Auntie Arya.” She grinned as the Dragon Queen laughed. 

“I will.”

With that, the young warrior hopped up onto her horse and whistled to her companions. Jaime and Tyrion had given each other a big hug while Podrick was trying to make Brienne smile as she mounted her horse. Sandor, on the other hand, just got into the saddle without a fuss.

At Arya’s signal, the four of them left through the doors of the keep to where Nymeria and her pack were waiting. The horses weren’t thrilled about having so many wolves (plus one direwolf) around them, but they kept their fear at bay.

Before long, the massive pack and the riders had disappeared over the horizon and were on their way.

“My stomach is in knots.” Sansa admitted as she walked back into the castle with Jon and Daenerys.

“If it makes you feel any better, mine is too.” Daenerys admitted. “Tyrion told me before I left Meereen that I was in the great game, and the great game is terrifying.”

“Tyrion is a smart man. Sometimes a little too smart.” Sansa quipped and all three of them laughed.

“I have Missandei to help me pack, but sister, please join me. We won’t see each other for a while and I’d like to have more company. Jon, I am sure, could use the help too.” Daenerys teased her husband, who rolled his eyes and grinned at her.

Sansa chuckled at the banter between her brother and her good-sister. “He was untidy even as a child.” 

“I was not!” Jon yelped in indignation as they walked to their chambers and pushed the door open.

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Give me a break, dear brother. Father used to chide you at least four times a week for forgetting to clean your room.”

“My rooms weren’t that bad.”

“Oh yes they were. Dany, you had to see it: clothes everywhere! No sense of tidiness.”

Daenerys caught Missandei’s eye and they giggled as the two siblings playfully bickered. It felt like home.

“You know, I think we should have a farewell dinner, just all of us and my advisors.” The Queen suggested as she and Missandei folded her clothes and put them into trunks.

Sansa paused from helping Jon neatly pack his clothes and boots into his trunk. “I like that idea.”

“Perfect. I’m looking forward to it. I’m going to miss this. It’s so...comforting.”

The Lady of Winterfell smiled brightly at her sister. “Oh yes…there was something missing from Winterfell, even after we took it back. I miss Bran, my parents, Rickon, Theon and Robb terribly, but I am so happy that you have joined our pack. Ever since you married Jon, it feels like the Winterfell I remember.” Sansa walked over and hugged Daenerys.

“As you know, I never had a real home and part of me was always searching for one. I am so grateful that you allowed me to become one of the pack. It has given me even more incentive to see this country at peace. Your family deserves it, mine deserves it, and the smallfolk definitely deserves it.” Daenerys said.

Sansa gave her a solemn look. “Send me a raven the minute Cersei is defeated. I won’t sleep easy until the lion queen is dethroned. She has caused too much pain and misery.”

Daenerys took her sister’s hands in her own. “I understand, and you will be the first to receive word.”

“Our Queen will write the letter personally.” Missandei teased and everyone laughed before the sorrow in the room disappeared and talk turned to lighter topics.

Hours later, Daenerys, Jon, Sansa, Tyrion, Missandei and Grey Worm were sitting in the King’s solar, chatting amongst themselves as the servants laid out the first course.

Once everyone’s glass was poured either with ale or wine, Tyrion raised his glass and pronounced a toast. “To all of us, the survivors. May we survive the last war.” He took a big sip and set it back down onto the table. 

Turning to Sansa, he smiled. “You, Lady of Winterfell, will definitely survive this. You are as tough as nails and have a will of iron. You will outlive us all.”

Sansa blushed. “Thank you, my Lord Hand, but I do hope we all survive. There has been so much death and pain. Let winter turn to spring, and peace arrive.”

“Well said, my Lady.” Tyrion clinked his glass to hers.

Daenerys gave a subtle look at Sansa, who gave a small smile and blushed, looking down briefly at her hands. _‘Oh, this is interesting….they would be fantastic as a couple. Both of them are intelligent and passionate…I hope this works out for both of them.’_

“Thank you, all of you, for your support. I appreciate it much more than I will ever be able to say. You are my family and I hope the next time we meet, we meet in victory.”

“We will.” Missandei said firmly.

“Absolutely. Winter is coming with fire and blood for the false queen, and we will put an end to all this endless fighting.” Sansa added.

As the little family proceeded to eat their meal, their resolve to see this through and emerge victorious grew stronger.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Daenerys leave Winterfell to march down to King's Landing

The big day had finally come; Jon and Daenerys were ready to march out with their armies. Ghost was waiting patiently for the royal couple and high above, his dragon brothers shrieked in excitement.

Sansa stood outside the gates of Winterfell with her long hair pulled back into a simple braid and a warm grey fur cloak over a gown of ice blue. In her arms was a basket with fabric wrapped up inside. She smiled at the royal couple and their friends—Grey Worm, Missandei, and Tyrion—standing next to them.

“I have some farewell gifts for you.” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears and she gave an audible swallow as she unwrapped the fabric. In it were five silver pins that featured a direwolf and a dragon embracing.

Sansa pulled Jon into a big hug after giving him his gift. “Do not die on me, brother. Come back home.”

He patted her on the back. “I will, but you need to be safe too. I have my most loyal guards here to protect you, so there is no need for you to fear.”

She smiled gratefully at her brother before turning to Daenerys and the two women embraced. “Thank you for taking such good care of my brother. Please protect him, he is the only brother I have left and please take care of yourself—I don’t want to lose another family member.”

“I promise you that we will return victorious, my sister.” Daenerys said firmly.

Sansa hugged Missandei and Grey Worm in turn. “Thank you so much for taking care of my brother and my sister. I consider the two of you family as well, please be safe.”

The Naathi advisor gave the Lady of Winterfell a watery smile and nodded. The captain of the Unsullied seemed pleasantly surprised that Sansa would hug him, but he too promised to stay safe.

Finally, all that was left was to say good-bye to Tyrion. “My lord Hand, I trust you to advise them well. Do not fail them—or me. I cannot lose anymore members of my family, not now.” 

Tyrion gently took Sansa’s hand and give it a soft kiss. “I promise you, I will not fail our King and Queen nor will I fail you. You have my word. Farewell, Lady Sansa.” There was a hint of a sob that left his throat as he turned away from the piercing eyes of the Lady of Winterfell and walked side-by-side with Missandei to the carriage where Lord Varys was waiting.

Grey Worm walked over to the Unsullied and began issuing commands in High Valyrian while Qhono rallied the Dothraki.

Once they were done, Jon and Daenerys turned to address the toops.

“Men of Westeros, the Free Folk, Unsullied, and Dothraki—together, we defeated the Night King and emerged victorious during the War for the Dawn. Now, we march south to fight the Last War and remove the false queen from the throne. Come, brave hearts, and let us march gladly to war!” Daenerys and Jon’s voices rang out like bells and Sansa couldn’t resist smiling with pride as their speech ended with the massive army moving slowly down the road to where Cersei Lannister was waiting.

As Jon and Daenerys rode at the head of their armies and walked down the rode with Ghost at their side, the King turned to his Queen.

“Are you nervous?”

She looked at him and smiled. “I am, to a certain extent. I have dreamed of this moment for so long, but there is a part of me that is also terrified too.”

“I feel the same way, but together, we shall persevere and you will overthrow Cersei.” Jon reached out to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“When we defeat Cersei.” Daenerys corrected with a smile.

Jon smiled back at her. “Yes—when we defeat Cersei.”

They rode together in companionable silence.

“What will be the first thing you want to do after we are officially king and queen?” Jon asked his wife.

Daenerys was silent for a few moments. “One way I want to improve the lives of the Westerosi is by granting women—both highborn and the smallfolk—legal equality to men. It is not right if only I am privileged enough to rise about societal mores and become queen; I want to extend that level of equality to every single woman in this country. What about you?”

Jon smiled at her. “You know all about my traumatic upbringing, of bearing the stigma of being a bastard. You have seen the nightmares I have. I want to erase the stain of bastardy so that no child ever has to go through the pain I went through when I was growing up.” His eyes grew distant and Daenerys reached out to gently pat his arm.

“Dorne’s example in how they treat their illegitimate children with equality shall be the model we will use when we take the throne. I did not have to suffer the stain of being considered a bastard, but from what you’ve shared with me and from how I’ve seen you act after you wake up from a panic attack in the dead of night, I will be damned before I let anyone else suffer like that. No one deserves to be treated that way.” She replied fiercely.

Jon’s heart sped up and he was so grateful that he had such an understanding wife. Ghost whined softly, clearly agreeing with his heart-brother and gave Daenerys an adoring look.

They went on riding in companionable silence before Daenerys glanced at Jon.

“I also want to provide a home for orphaned children and create laws to keep children safe from the cruelty of their parents or guardians. I know I still have internal scars on my heart from Visery’s cruelty and as Queen, I’d like to do everything in my power to keep the little ones safe.”

“That’s an excellent idea; I would also suggest that along the lines of families, we make it a law that would outlaw blood feuds and generational hatred. That could be a strong deterrent to wars being sprung in Westeros over what one person’s relatives supposedly did to another.”

“I love that; it is also the perfect way to honor my brother and your parents. Perhaps we could call it Rhaegar’s Law.” Daenerys smiled.

“Perfect.”

“I wonder what my mother and your parents would think of….all this.” The Dragon Queen mused.

“Hmmmm?” Jon tilted his head, looking rather like a confused wolf pup.

“If they were alive…or if there is an afterlife…sometimes I can’t help but wonder what my mother, Rhaegar or your mother Lyanna would think about all this.” She gestured to the army marching behind them.

“I hope my parents would be proud that I am trying to right the wrongs their love started. Your mother would be so proud of you for fighting against all the odds and succeeding, I am sure of it.”

“And how do you know?” Daenerys smiled at her husband.

“Because I am proud of you, for all you have accomplished so far and all you will accomplish in the future.” Jon reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze.

“Thank you, my love. There are times when I desperately wish my mother was here….I wish I could have gotten the chance to meet her. She would have loved you.”

“I understand; I wish I could talk to my fath…well, technically uncle, one last time. I used to be angry with him for not giving me any information about my mother, but I understand why now. I just wish I could have had one last chance to tell him I love him. He would have been at our wedding beaming with pride and sitting in the first row.” Jon’s eyes grew teary at the thought.

Daenerys gave a wistful smile. “I honestly don’t know if there is an afterlife, but if there is, I’d like to believe that all our loved ones were at our wedding, watching over us. I hope we do great honor to their memories.”

“We will, my Queen. We will.” Jon reassured her as they rode on for White Harbor.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany meet with the heirs of the Tyrell and Martell families at Dragonstone.

As the Targaryen fleet arrived in Dragonstone, Daenerys was standing at the bow of the ship with Jon and Ghost by her side. Her dragons screeched happily above her, clearly thrilled to be away from the cold North.

“Looks like Yara’s here.” Jon nodded towards the arriving ships bearing the gold Kraken sigil.

“Dorne is with us.” The silver-haired woman let out a huge sigh of relief when she saw the ships in the distance bearing the sigil of House Martell.

“I wonder how things are going with the Stormlands. Gendry and Davos must have arrived by now.” Jon mused as the captain steered their ship into the harbor.

Ghost gave a low whine and nuzzled Jon’s hand before pushing his wet nose into Daenerys’s hand, demanding scritches. She smiled at the direwolf and dug her fingers into his fur while his tail thumped happily.

Once the ship docked, Jon and Daenerys were led by their guards off of the ship and into the castle, with Tyrion, Varys, and Missandei trailing not far behind. Ghost, as ever, stuck to Jon and Daenerys’s side as they made their way back to their ancestral home.

“My Queen, I will direct the servants to send you and your husband’s belongings to your chambers. It appears as if the Martell and Greyjoy forces are docking now; what would you like me to do with Princess Arianne, Lord Willas Tyrell and Queen Yara?” Missandei asked.

“Have a servant send them to chambers of their own and let them relax for a bit. Send a message that we’ll meet for dinner to talk.” Daenerys said.

“Excellent. Now go and relax, my Queen.” The advisor teased, gently bumping her hip into Daenerys’s with a playful smile.

The Queen giggled as her friend walked in the other direction and gently tugged at Jon’s hand to show him their new chambers.

“This is beautiful.” Jon breathed when he saw the high windows that allowed for an abundant amount of sunshine to enter the room and the beautifully etched dragons that danced on the walls. “Bit dreary though. Could use a good Northern fur blanket or two.” He joked.

Daenerys chortled. “Once we oust Cersei, we can redecorate this place.”

Ghost took this opportunity to jump on the bed and roll around, tongue lolling out of his mouth and his tail wagging happily. Both Daenerys and Jon burst out laughing at the direwolf’s antics. 

“Guess he really likes the bed and doesn’t want us to redecorate.” Jon snickered as he sat down and started to scratch Ghost’s stomach.

Ghost paused in his happy rolls and stayed still, one hind leg scratching frantically. Daenerys sat down next to her husband and started to scratch the thick fur on the direwolf’s chest, causing the hind leg to speed up.

Finally, Ghost rolled onto his feet and tackled the couple with lots of licks before he decided to settle down on the bed. Daenerys and Jon snuggled up with one another and leaned back, content to just relax and pet the lovable direwolf.

Hours later, after all their belongings had been moved into their chambers and Yara and Arienne were settled in, Missandei knocked on the door and asked the royal couple if they would like a bath drawn.

Once Jon and Daenerys were warm and dry after bathing, it came time to prepare for a meeting with their allies.

Missandei and Daenerys helped Jon dress in in a long black tunic and pants. Over that, he wore a gambeson with the sigils of House Stark and House Targaryen entwined in an embrace. Upon his head was the crown the Northerners had made for him.

Once Jon was properly dressed, Missandei pulled her friend’s hair into a set of elaborate braids and aided her in lacing up the back of a velvet wine red dress. Around her waist was a black belt adorned with rubies and over one shoulder Daenerys wore her three-headed dragon chain. The final touch was her silver dragon crown that she had worn on her wedding day.

Jon reached out to caress his wife’s cheek. “You look beautiful.”

She smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “And you look devilishly handsome.”

They clasped hands as Daenerys turned to Missandei. “Are we ready to jump into the fray once more?”

“Of course.” The Naathi advisor reassured her friend.

“Here we go.” Jon squeezed his wife’s hands as they left their chambers and proceeded to walk down the halls to the throne room.

When they got there, Varys, Tyrion and Grey Worm were already waiting while a mix of Unsullied and Dothraki guards stood at attention. Jon and Daenerys went to stand before the throne, eying their guests. Yara Greyjoy physically looked the same, but the royal couple could see the grief in her eyes. 

Next to her stood Princess Arianne, who wore a shimmering dark green dress that was complimented by the large emerald necklace that fell a little past her collarbone. By her side was a tall, slender man dressed in a long blue surcoat with an embroidered gold rose in the middle and dark brown breeches, holding a cane in his right hand.

“You stand in the presence of Jon Snow, also known as Jaehaerys Targaryen, Third Of His Name, The White Wolf, Bringer of Dawn, King of the Andals and the First Men and Daenerys Targaryen, First of Her Name, the Unburnt, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons.” Missandei’s voice rang out loud and clear over the stone walls.

“Come forward.” Daenerys said and the three walked forward until they were almost in front of the royal couple.

“Queen Yara, I am sorry about what happened to Theon; know that he died bravely. If you’d like, we can sit down together to talk about his last days.” Jon said softly and she gave him a half-smile.

“I would like that, Your Grace.”

“Princess Arianne Martell and Lord Willas Tyrell, we are both pleased to meet the two of you. But, pray tell, where are your brothers Prince Quentyn Martell and Ser Garlan?” Daenerys asked.

“We decided it was best for our brothers to stay in hiding in Braavos.” The Dornish Princess replied, dark eyes assessing the royal couple.

“Smart.” Jon murmured.

“We are here to pledge our support for House Targaryen.” Willas began, dark blue eyes watching Daenerys and Jon carefully. “The Usurper Lord Tarly has destroyed most of my House’s armies and we have a long way to go before our harvest will be up to par with years past. However, my Grandmother did not leave all of the Tyrell fortune with her—she sent half of it with my brother and I when we left for Braavos. I pledge it here and now to your cause, Your Graces. I will help you rebuild King’s Landing once that traitorous false Queen is gone, in honor of the memory of my lost loved ones.”

“Kneel then, Lord Tyrell.” Daenerys said firmly as she clutched Jon’s fingers tightly.

“I, Lord Willas Tyrell, hereby pledge myself, my House and my people to Jaehaerys Targaryen, Third of His Name and Daenerys Targaryen, First Of Her Name, King And Queen of the Andals, The Rhoynar, and the First Men. Long may they reign.”

“Rise, Lord Tyrell.” Jon said, keeping his tone light.

“And We bestow upon you the ancestral title of Warden of the South.” Daenerys smiled as Willas’s face beamed with joy.

“I, Princess Arianne Martell of Dorne, hereby pledge my House, land and people to the rightful king and queen: Jaehaerys Targaryen, Third of His Name and Daenerys Targaryen, First of Her Name, King and Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Long may they reign.” The young woman sunk into a perfect curtsey, her dress flowing out around her like water.

“Rise, Princess Arianne Martell of Dorne.” Daenerys and Jon said in unison.

“Follow us, please. We were just about to sit down for dinner and we would be delighted if the three of you would join us.” The Dragon Queen smiled at her allies and the little group left the throne room for the massive hall.

Once everyone was settled in around the table and the food began to be served, Yara seemed to disregard the grief that was pulled tightly around her like a cloak.

“Thank you, Your Graces, for sending me Theon’s ashes. I appreciate being able to have the chance to bury my brother in the manner of the Iron Islands.” She smiled at the king and queen.

“Theon and I might not have seen eye-to-eye and a part of me is still hurting and angry over his earlier mistakes with Bran and Rickon, but I forgave him. He was able to help Sansa escape and even though Bloodraven tricked us by using Bran’s face, he was still willing to risk everything to defend his foster family and atone for the wrongs he had done. I give him credit; he was a good man and passed away as a warrior.” Jon told her.

Yara’s eyes glittered with tears and she swallowed hard, but her mask of composure did not break. “I am glad to hear it. Now I will take down our uncle Euron in Theon’s memory.”

“You received our raven with the news that Euron and his fleet have been sticking to King’s Landing and haven’t moved much from Blackwater Bay, yes?” Lord Varys asked, dark eyes boring into Yara’s own sea-green.

“Yes; although I must admit I am rather surprised that he is playing it safe. Then again, he may be an arrogant git but he’s not a fool—he knows that the dragons could destroy his fleet easily in open sea. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has several of those scorpions you told me about on his ships.” Yara nodded towards Daenerys, who frowned at the memory of the weapons that had injured Drogon.

“So he’s a coward, really. “Willas said after taking a sip of wine.

“More like he knows when his bread is buttered and seems to not want to take too unnecessary risks.” Arianne mused, dark eyes watching Yara.

“It does make sense for your Uncle to be on high alert; the Battle for the Dawn is over, Jon’s heritage has been revealed and the last two Targaryens are married. Cersei’s nervous, although I doubt my sister would ever admit it.” The Imp rolled his eyes before he downed half the contents of his wine glass in one fell swoop.

“It is growing late, and I know the three of you must be exhausted, so after dinner, I feel it is best if we all just relax and try to get some rest. However, tomorrow afternoon let us meet for a war council meeting so that you can come up to speed and we can tweak our plans, if need be.” Daenerys said.

Arianne gave her a grateful look. “That would be best, Your Grace.”

Talk then turned to more polite and mundane topics as the gathered group finished the rest of their meal before retiring to their bedchambers.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany come up with a plan to take down Euron Greyjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The character of Morganna is my nod to Morgan Le Fey, particularly Katie McGrath's portrayal of her.

Daenerys and Jon were already sitting at the great painted table that belonged to Aegon the Conqueror when their allies and the rest of their council walked in.

Missandei and Grey Worm took the seats next to Daenerys while Tyrion and Willas sat next to Jon. 

Across from the two rulers sat Qhono, Tormund, Arianne, Yara, Lord Varys and one of the remaining high-ranking R’hllor priestesses who had fought with them for the Dawn, a tall young woman with curly black hair and big blue eyes named Morganna.

“Thank you for joining us.” Jon said as Daenerys arranged the carved figures featuring the sigils of the great houses on the map before them.

“As we mentioned last night, Lord Varys has received news from King’s Landing that Euron is playing it safe and guarding Blackwater Bay, likely feeling overconfident from the fact that his ships are armed with scorpions and he thinks he can take my children down.” Daenerys’s voice dipped to a low growl.

Tyrion frowned, bushy eyebrows practically pushed together. “Doesn’t he know that dragon scales are nigh impossible for most weapons to get through? Meraxes died through a lucky shot in the eye, but that’s rare.”

Yara snorted. “This is Euron we are talking about. He never liked reading, much less anything to do with Targaryen history.”

“Well, that’s good. He’s overconfident and lacks knowledge of the dragons…we can use that to our advantage.” Tyrion pointed out.

“Before we left Winterfell, my wife and I, along with our council, came up with a tentative plan: we surprise Euron and his fleet at night by launching an attack on dragon back. Yara, do you think you would be able to take out the remaining ships?” Jon asked, turning to look at the Ironborn Queen.

“I will; but we’re going to have to figure out a way to make sure Euron and his ships don’t see mine first.”

“I could perform a glamour.” Morganna spoke up. “It is easy enough to do and will not require a lot of energy from me.”

Lord Varys blinked in surprise. “You could hide the ships? Cloak them in darkness?”

The Red Priestess gave a catlike grin. “Yes, I could hide the ships in darkness. All I need is a taglock and some fire. It doesn’t need to last long, just long enough to make Queen Yara’s fleet unnoticeable.”

Jon and Daenerys briefly glanced at one another before the queen nodded. 

“Very well then, you shall be with the Ironborn.” Daenerys said.

“I would recommend striking during the new moon; that way there will be less light.” Arianne lightly tapped perfectly manicured nails on the table before moving the sigil of House Martell to Dragonstone.

Willas nodded. “Agreed. Plus, I imagine less work for the priestess.” He said with a brief nod to Morganna, who smiled at him.

“When is the new moon? Forgive me my lords and ladies, but with everything going on I haven’t been paying much attention to the moon phases.” Jon admitted.

“New moon is in five days.” Tormund, who had thus far been watching the council quietly, spoke up.

Daenerys turned to Yara. “Is five days enough time for you?”

The Kraken Queen snorted with laughter. “My men and I will be ready in two.” She joked.

“What about you, Morganna?” The Dragon Queen asked.

“Five days is perfect; this is a very easy spell so please don’t worry about it.” She reassured the royal couple and the council.

Daenerys and Jon nodded.

“Perfect, in five days we shall take out Euron and leave Cersei reeling. You are free to go; We thank you for your council and your ideas.” The Dragon Queen stood up, her husband already standing next to her and the council trickled out of the hall in twos and threes.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our favorite heroes take down Euron Greyjoy and his fleet.

Daenerys took a deep inhale and grasped her husband’s hand tightly as the Red Priestess began her ritual the minute the Sun began to set.

She had asked the Queen to ask her children to create a fire in a fire pit she created on the beach, ringed by three large circles with rocks at the four corners of each one.

Morgana held up a plain silver dagger and let it hover safely above the flames.

“I call to thee, R’hllor, Lord of Light, Fire Incarnate and Mighty Protector. Bless this knife and hide the one who wields it in the darkness so that they may strike out unseen from their enemies. Hail, Lord of Light!” Her sing-song voice made the hair on Jon’s arms stand up and he resisted the urge to shiver.

The flames from the fire pit seemed to grow brighter and the dagger Morganna held in her hand glowed for a brief moment with a white light before returning to a perfectly normal weapon.

The priestess turned to Yara and smiled. “Here you go. As long as you have this on your person, your fleet will be cloaked in shadow.”

The Queen of the Iron Islands didn’t say anything, but she grabbed the dagger and gently placed in her right boot. She looked over at the King and Queen of Westeros and they nodded.

“Safe travels.” Daenerys said. The dragons roared as Yara boarded her ship and ordered her fleet to set sail. Daenerys and Jon watched as the ships slowly disappeared into the darkness.

“Our turn.” Jon gave his wife’s hand an encouraging squeeze as they climbed onto the saddles on their dragons’ backs.

Both dragons and their riders wore armor; Daenerys and Jon wore heavy black cloaks to keep them warm and to help them avoid being seen by Euron’s fleet.

“Fly.” Daenerys whispered in Valyrian to Drogon and the great black dragon sensed his mother’s fear and resolve as he spread his massive wings for takeoff, his little brother and their father right behind them.

Jon glanced down and waved at Tyrion, Morganna, Tormund, Lord Varys, Missandei, Grey Worm and Ghost before they left. He could see the white direwolf give an affectionate wag of his tail and felt Ghost’s encouragement as his dragon brother took to the air.

Jon nodded to his wife once Rhaegal and Drogon adjusted to fly side-by side before looking down at Yara’s fleet.

 _‘This is bizarre. I can see her fleet, and I assume Daenerys can too, but the edges of the ships seem almost….foggy almost. I will give that Red Priestess credit, whatever spell she performed worked.’_ He shivered at the thought and resumed looking forward, keeping an eye out for Euron’s fleet.

Almost three days later, Daenerys and Jon spotted Euron’s fleet patrolling around the Blackwater Bay, a little past Rosby.

 _‘This is it.’_ Daenerys took a deep breathe to steady herself before she urged Drogon to attack. She spotted Euron’s ship with its massive scorpions and anger flowed through her. _‘You will never hurt one of my children._

Drogon saw the scorpions too and he echoed his mother’s anger, although there was a part of the dragon that thought humans were foolish for relying on a weapon that likely wouldn’t pierce his hide hard enough to do any kind of major damage.

“Dracarys.” Daenerys’s eyes glittered as she gave the command. Both Drogon and Rhaegal breathed fire at the exact same time.

She smirked when the flames engulfed the scorpions, but she immediately urged her child to fly high up out of reach, just in case. Daenerys glanced briefly at Yara’s fleet, which approached Euron’s Silence from behind. 

Once again, Drogon dove from the sky like a hawk set on catching prey before pulling up quickly and hovering next to his little brother as they set fire to the pirate king’s ships. It was clear that Morganna’s spell had worked, since Daenerys could faintly hear the shouts of surprise from her foes on the ships.

Rhaegal and Drogon waited for a minute or two to let Yara lead the charge before they dive bombed Euron’s ships, causing a massive inferno that lit up the nighttime sky like a thousand stars.

Satisfied that they had wiped out Cersei’s ally, Daenerys patted Drogon’s neck. “It is time to go home, my love.”

With a triumphant roar, Drogon signaled to his little brother and the two dragons started the journey back to Dragonstone.

Once the royal couple and Yara returned to Dragonstone, Daenerys and Jon immediately climbed off of their dragons and unsaddled them before hurrying to the castle so that they could soak their sore muscles in a long, hot bath.

After they cleaned up, Jon and Daenerys met with their council and allies in the Hall of the Painted Table.

“It was good hunting last night, wasn’t it?” Yara quipped when the royal couple entered the room.

“I assume Euron is at the bottom of the ocean?” Daenerys asked her friend.

“Definitely. Fucker jumped overboard once the two of you called in the dragons and he attempted to climb my ship in order to kill me. Fortunately, he had several burn wounds on his hands and legs, so it was easy to take him out. His body…or what’s left of it….is currently feeding the fish in the bay.”

“Did you manage to take any prisoners?” Jon looked at the last remaining Greyjoy.

“A few; some of them were terrified of the dragons and they immediately switched sides once the ships started burning, but the vast majority of them either jumped off the ship or they perished. Euron’s Iron Fleet is gone.” Yara gave a fierce smile.

“Good. I imagine that Cersei’s wrath will awful to witness; Lord Varys, have we heard anything from Lady Arya and her group?”

The bald man nodded. “Yes, I received word two days ago from your brother Ser Jaime that they have arrived in King’s Landing in disguise. It seems as if your little sister is quite good at coming up with creative disguises. I shall have to ask her for a few tips in the future.” A ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

Jon let out a relieved breath that he didn’t even realize he had been holding until now. “Thank the gods.”

“I have also received word that the Stormlands have accepted Gendry Baratheon as their lord and are sailing to meet us at Dragonstone as we speak.”

Daenerys smiled. “Excellent.”

“I would suggest attacking sooner rather than later, especially once Lord Baratheon and his troops arrive. My sweet sister will soon find out that Euron is dead and a trapped lioness is deadly.” Tyrion interjected.

“That, my friend, is an excellent point.” Lord Varys smiled at the Imp.

“We will start gathering our forces and once Lord Baratheon arrives, we shall start planning our attack.” Jon said.

“I will also send a raven to my little birds and urge your sister and her companions to start disabling the wildfire. Your Graces, would you mind if I traveled to King’s Landing myself to help oversee the expedition?” Lord Varys asked.

The two monarchs looked at one another and then at their allies and advisors. No one seemed to disagree, so Jon nodded. “Aye, you may go.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I shall gather my belongings and be ready to leave for tomorrow morning.” Lord Varys dipped his head smoothly.

Seeing that the conversation was now over, the Dragon Queen hastened to end the meeting.

“Let us rest after talking of politics and war; my husband and I would like to visit the dragons and I would enjoy introducing you two to my children.” Daenerys smiled at both Arianne and Willas. 

They smiled back just as everyone stood up and started pushing their chairs in, lazily making their way out of the chamber.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to say thank you for all of the readers who left such kind comments. I'm really glad people like this story. :)

A few days later, both Jon and Daenerys were relieved to see Gendry and Ser Davos arrive on Dragonstone with the ships they had lent the new Lord of the Stormlands.

Both men embraced the royal couple with huge smiles on their faces.

“We did it, lad.” Davos gave Jon a hearty clasp.

The dark-eyed king gave a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you, my friend.”

Daenerys gave Gendry a big hug. “They were not too cruel to you, were they, cousin?” She asked, touching his cheek and giving him a worried once over.

The blacksmith turned lord shook his head. “No, Your Grace, they weren’t too bad. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Daenerys rolled her eyes. “You can call me by my name, you know. We are kin, after all.”

Gendry gave her a shy smile. “Okay Dae-Daenerys. The lords were a bit skeptical at first, but since they didn’t really have any other options and apparently I look a lot like my father, so they confirmed me as Lord Baratheon and have pledged themselves to your cause. Brought with me as many fighting men as could be mustered.”

“Thank you, cousin. I mean it—thank you.” Daenerys hugged him tightly and this time, Gendry hugged her back. “Now let’s get you and Ser Davos inside so that the two of you can refresh yourselves.

An hour later, Gendry and Ser Davos found themselves in the royal couple’s solar telling them about how the mission went. In turn, Daenerys and Jon made sure both men were caught up in what had happened while they were gone, namely the fact that Euron Greyjoy was now dead and Cersei had no fleet left to fight for her.

After they told their tale, the King and Queen leaned back in their chairs, clearly thinking over what they had just been told.

“When do you plan on attacking King’s Landing?” The older man asked, absently scrubbing his fingers against his cheek.

Jon and Daenerys exchanged a quick look. 

“We were aiming for later this week, if the Baratheon forces are up to it.” The king said.

“They are well-rested and ready to fight for you.” Gendry said proudly.

“Excellent. Before dinner, we shall hold an official war council to figure out our best strategy.” Daenerys said.

“Sounds good to me.” The blacksmith turned lord said, giving his cousins a jovial smile.

“Now, I give the two of you leave to rest—I’m sure you are exhausted.” Daenerys said as she and Jon got up from their chairs.

Gendry and Ser Davos followed suit, eager to try and catch up on all of the sleep they missed during their travels.

Once they were gone, Jon and Daenerys went to sit on their private balcony where Ghost was napping in the sun. He opened one eye, gave a few wags of his tail and went back to sleep when he saw who it was.

The couple cuddled up next to one another on the long recliner and its plush cushions.

“Are you ready for the final battle of this damned war?” Daenerys asked, putting her head on her husband’s shoulders.

“Aye, I am. I would prefer to get it over with….I am tired of fighting.” He admitted, running his hands through his wife’s long hair.

“I am too. I want to protect our people and nurture them once this is all over.” Daenerys said, cuddling closer.

“I would advise that we strike soon.” Jon kissed her forehead.

“How soon do you think?”

Jon furrowed his brow as he weighed the pros and cons. “To be honest with you, my dear wife, I would say later this week. Our men are well rested and ready; it seems like the Stormlanders are too. Cersei is reeling from the loss of the Iron Fleet and Arya and her group have been working hard to disable the wildfire, which will certainly speed up now that Varys has joined them. It is time for us to strike hard and strike fast before the injured lioness can try to retaliate.”

“That’s true. And quite frankly, I want this to be over and done with. I have been Aegon the Conqueror come again but I would like peace so that we can actually put all of our energy into helping to improve the lives of our people.” Daenerys added.

The dark-haired Northman gently caressed his wife’s cheek.“We strike on Friday, then.”

Daenerys smiled. “Now to make sure our allies agree. I will call for a meeting before dinner.” She sat up and got off of the couch, intent on finding a servant to deliver a message to their allies.

Jon nodded and stood up, moving quickly to stand next to his wife. Hand in hand, the royal couple moved away from the peaceful balcony back into the inner chambers of the castle.

As the afternoon sky gave way to early evening, painting everything in a dark gold, Daenerys and Jon entered the hall of the Painted Table and sat at the head of the table, waiting for their councilors and their allies to arrive.

Missandei and Grey Worm followed shortly, along with Tyrion, Yara, Gendry, Ser Davos, Qhono and Tormund. Morganna, Arianne and Willas walked in a few minutes later.

Once everyone was comfortable in their seats, the Dragon Queen officially started the meeting.

“My friends, we stand on the precipice of the final battle against the Lannister army. The lioness has lost her ally Euron and Blackwater Bay is essentially defenseless. My husband has suggested that we strike hard and fast before Cersei can regroup, and I agree with him.”

There were murmurs of approval.

“Before we continue further, Lord Varys has left Dragonstone to help with Arya and her group’s plans of dismantling the wildfire caches that Cersei left all over the city.” Daenery’s expression darkened.

“We have received word from Ser Brienne that they have made some progress in dismantling the wildfire, but it is not done yet since Qyburn’s spies are everywhere.” Jon added.

“So we’ll need a diversion, eh?” Tyrion raised one dark blonde eyebrow.

Jon smiled at him. “Absolutely.”

“What do you propose, my friend?”

The King and Queen glanced at one another before grinning widely. 

“We tried to get the Golden Company on our side but they are too bloody attached to their precious contract to switch sides and they believe Cersei’s lies about Jon's heritage. So we’ll keep ‘em busy by burning down the walls around King’s Landing with Rhaegal and Drogon, taking care to avoid any spots that my sister hasn’t gotten to yet.”

Willas gave a low whistle of appreciation. “That can work…that can definitely work.”

“But what of the scorpions? My sister will have placed some around the keep and the walls.” Tyrion asked with furrowed brows.

“We can fly in at the wee hours of the morning when it is still dark out as a surprise attack.” Daenerys pointed out.

“Much like you did with Euron…I would agree that is a good plan but I also don’t trust my sister. She’ll be expecting that now.” He pointed out.

“I can provide our King and Queen with talismans to keep them mostly hidden from unfriendly eyes. It won’t be as good as the one I made for Queen Yara because hiding dragons is going to be exhausting, but it will be something, at least.” Morganna volunteered.

“You can also sneak up from behind the city too. Everyone is going to expect you two to be at the front lines with your dragons, so why not play with them a bit and do the unexpected?” Arianne pointed out with a slow smile. “I agree with the two of you doing this at around first light or a bit before that—the guards will be sleepy and you’ll be able to see the scorpions clearly, just in case.”

Daenerys smiled back at the Dornish Princess. “I like the way you think, my friend.”

“The guards usually swap out around mid-morning so I can confirm that they will be more likely to be sleep-deprived and therefore careless.” Tyrion added, running a hand through his thick blonde hair in an attempt to rid himself of his nervous energy.

“Our first priority should be taking out the walls of King’s Landing and only the walls. I don’t want to trigger any of the wildfire that may or may not be left.” Jon pointed out. “Leave that to my wife and I.”

Tormund grinned at his friend. “Afterwards, rush into the city?”

Jon nodded. “Aye. It should catch them off-guard so that we can gain the upper hand.”

“Spoken like a true wilding, King Crow!”

“When do you suggest we attack?” The Ironborn Queen tilted her head and looked at Daenerys.

“Jon and I were thinking Friday. Is that agreeable to everyone?” The Dragon Queen looked at each one of her friends or allies.

There were agreeable murmurs of consent and Daenerys sighed with relief.

“Excellent. We shall prepare Thursday and leave at night.” She said. “Rest up, my friends. We will soon be in short supply of it.”

“Personally, I’m ready to have a go at those fuckers. Can’t be harder than fighting the dead.” Tormund quipped and everyone laughed as the meeting came to a close.

“From your mouth to R’hllor’s ears.” Morganna’s eyes twinkled as she gave the Wildling a hearty clasp on the shoulder before she left.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the character of William is named after my great-grandpa Edward's brother.

_‘Swift as a deer.’_ Arya whispered to herself as she followed Lord Varys down into the tunnels in order to dispose of the wildfire, hauling a wheelbarrow behind her. The air was damp and smelled like rotten sewage, but the she-wolf of Winterfell wasn’t going to let that keep her from finishing her mission.

“Here.” Lord Varys whispered, disguised as a simple cook. If Arya didn’t know any better, she would have passed him by in a crowd without a second glance.

He held up his lantern in front of the three barrels, careful not to get too close. Arya peered inside and saw at least 30 glass bottles of wildfire gleaming a sickly green in the gloom.

“I’ve got it.” She immediately went to work removing the delicate glass bottles and putting them in pre-made barrels filled with sand that were ready and waiting in the dilapidated wheelbarrow. “We’ve made quick work of the wildfire since we’ve gotten here thanks to your pyromancer friend William helping us; how much do you reckon we have left?”

The Spider shrugged. “I shall have to look over the maps but….shhhh.” He and the former assassin exchanged worried looks. 

“Go! Now!” Varys ordered her, unsheathing a small dagger from his sleeve.

“You need me to fight!” Arya hissed, grey eyes narrowing. 

“Get the bloody wildfire out of here, girl! That’s more important. Go now, and leave me!” The Master of Whispers was determined and Arya nodded briefly before taking off at a breakneck speed.

_‘Thanks be to the Old Gods for my training…..this is heavy, but nothing compared to what I went through with the Faceless Men.’_

Behind her, there were the dim sounds of a scuffle. She ran faster, knowing that the entrance to the outside world was only a few feet away and the Hound would be waiting for her by a wagon.

Back in the tunnels, Varys valiantly stood his ground as he came face to face with two of Qyburn’s little birds. 

One was a child who looked to be in his early teens with a gaunt, hungry look to his face and an ugly scar that crossed from one cheek towards the other. He carried a dagger and he stared at Varys with malice in his eyes.

His compatriot was a tall young man around the age of eight and ten with a lean muscled body and curly blonde hair.

“See, Garrett? I toldja I heard someone.” The younger man boasted with a wide smirk.

“Aye, Thackery, you did. Ya did good, kiddo. So who do we have here?” Garrett unsheathed his sword in one fluid motion and pressed the tip of it to Varys’s throat.

“Just a humble man sneaking in to see his lover.” The Spider kept his face free of any panic, hoping against hope that the two young men would believe his lies.

“Oh, aye? And who is it?”

“Her name is Mira, she is a cook in the kitchens of the Red Keep. Gorgeous blonde hair, eyes like sapphires…” The sword pressed harder against Vary’s neck and he could barely restrain a shiver as the blade pierced skin, sending a trickle of blood winding down to his chest.

“Somehow, I highly doubt that.” Thackery quipped as he circled the Spider. “There was wildfire here yesterday and now it’s gone.”

“Wildfire? What wildfire?” Varys prayed to any and all Gods that were listening that he could lie his way out of here, but it was looking less likely by the minute.

“The wildfire that you stole, mister. We heard ya. We see everything.” Thackery’s dark green eyes gleamed with triumph.

“Oh? And how do two nobodies know what wildfire is? You two certainly don’t look like pyromancers.” Varys’s tone was dry; he knew it was a risk but he was not going to be cowed by these two children.

“We’re—“Thackery started as Garret tried to frantically hush him but failed—“Qyburn’s little birds. What he knows, we know! And we know the Spider is back in town!”

Quicker than a striking snake, the younger boy reached out to grab at Varys’s long tunic. He grinned as Varys tried to evade his grasp and run; then Thackery launched himself at the Spider and started punching his back as hard as he could.

“Damnit, Thackery, stop it! Qyburn is going to want him alive!” Garret yelled, stalking over to the two men with his sword raised high.

The younger man ignored his comrade and instead plunged his dagger deep into the back and neck of the former Master of Whispers. Sharp pain ran through Varys; he didn’t know what it felt like to be struck by lightning but if he had to guess, it must have felt like the white-hot fire that now ran through his entire body.

He couldn’t help it; he started to scream but that only fueled Thackery’s savagery. As the blade went through the middle of his neck and the blood left his body, Varys took his last breath.

_‘At least we took out most of the wildfire….the Dragon Queen will not become Queen of the Ashes.’_

With that last thought, his screams ended and a small smile was frozen forever on his face.

“Gods damnit, Thackery! We could have taken him to Qyburn and tortured him for more information! You’re so gods-damned impulsive, you little brat!” Garret complained as he heaved the still-bleeding body of the Spider over his shoulder.

“Oh, quite yer bitching, Gar. The Queen will be pleased we killed her enemy and will reward us richly…maybe we’ll even get some land and titles.” Thackery sneered as he peered down the tunnel, looking for anyone else.

Garrett sighed. “His accomplice must’ve ran off with the wildfire by now. Come, let us try to explain our fuck-ups to Qyburn.”

“Speak for yourself.” Thackery rolled his eyes as the two men made their way to the opening located in the Red Keep.

Farther down in the tunnel, Arya reached the end and immediately closed the passageway, but not before Varys’s dying screams were etched forever in her mind. 

From underneath his wide-brimmed hat and hood that perfectly hid his features, Sandor paled and immediately put the wheelbarrow in the back of the wagon, hiding it amongst the barrels of wine that they had agreed to use as a decoy. Arya grasped Needle and Catspaw as she hopped in the front and they took off.

“You left the Spider?” The grizzled warrior asked in a low voice as the horses trotted through the city.

“He didn’t exactly give me a choice.” She growled.

“Ya know he’s probably dead, right?”

“No shit, Sandor! Now drive! We can talk about this later.” Grey eyes flashed with anger and the scarred man wisely kept his mouth shut.

The two sat in agitated silence as they drove to The Lion’s Tale, the inn that they had been staying at and which was run by one of Varys’s little birds that was still loyal to the Spider.

 _‘Shit, I’m going to have to tell Leonora.’_ Arya’s heart twisted at the thought of the kindly middle-aged woman hearing that her benefactor was dead.

The young warrior sent a prayer of thanks to the Old Goda that Leonora was out shopping when she and Sandor strolled in.

William Donnelly, the pyromancer who was friends with the Spider, was sitting at the corner table all the way in the back, his black cloak hiding most of his features. He nodded at the two of them as they walked over and sat down.

“You have my vegetables?” He asked, affecting a Stormlander accent to further aid in his disguise.

“Aye, we have your bloody vegetables. Are you going to cough up the dough or not?” Sandor growled as he opened his palm.

William rolled his eyes, but played along with the charade and slapped the appropriate amount of coins into the Hound’s palm. “Where are they?”

“Outside, of course. Didn’t wantcha to cheat me.” Sandor’s eyes glittered from underneath his hood; Arya could tell he was having way too much fun playing his role in this mummery.

“Good; let’s go and you can help me stack it into my wagon.” The three of them stood up and the chairs thudded against the wooden floor as they were pushed into the table.

Once they were outside and safe from prying eyes in the back of Sandor’s wagon, William wanted updates.

“Is this the last of it?” His voice was low and so quiet only a mouse could hear him. 

Thankfully, Arya had keen ears.“We hope.” She shivered.

“I can see it in your eyes that something happened. Is Varys captured?”

She shook her head, dark hair flying about her shoulders. “Dead. Two of Qyburn’s little birds must have found out our whereabouts. I escaped with the wildfire. He didn’t.”

William blanched. “Do you know how many more caches are left?”

Arya shrugged. “I’ll look at the map we devised when I get upstairs. If we have any left, it’s only a few.”

“I can check with my sources too. You look, I shall ask around and let’s meet up back here later on. I would much rather be safe than sorry. I saw….the Sept.” His blue eyes filled with tears and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I don’t want to ever witness anything like that ever again.”

Arya had only seen the ruins of where the Sept of Baelor once stood, but she could well imagine what kind of horrors the poor man had seen the day Cersei decided to give her enemies a fatal blow.

She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We don’t want to see that either. Neither does Daenerys Targaryen. Go now, and disable this wildfire. We will see you later.”

William nodded. “Until then.” With a sigh, he climbed up into the seat of his own carriage and clucked his tongue at the horses to get going.

Sandor and Arya silently watched him drive down one of the winding streets before turning around and heading into the inn.

Leonora had just returned and the beginning of a smile started to grow, but she took one look at their expressions and it died.

“Oy, you two, fancy an ale?” She pretended indifference as she waved a mug in their face.

“It’s been a long day. We bloody need it.” The Hound’s voice was low and gruff.

The plump woman shoved a greying lock of hair out of her eyes and busied herself pouring the ale into the plain brown mugs.

Arya calmly pulled out her purse and shoved the coins at Leonora, who bent to take them.

“What happened?” The older woman asked.

“Almost got caught by two of Qyburn’s little birds. They got Varys. He’s dead.” The she-wolf of Winterfell felt bad for delivering the news so bluntly, but they didn’t have much time. “I got the wildfire out and gave it to William. Have to look over the maps to see if we have anymore left to go.”

Leonora’s eyes watered, but she pushed back the tears. “You are doing the Gods’ work, my lady. Varys may be dead, but we shall continue on in his stead.”

“Aye, we shall.” The young assassin whispered, an idea blooming in her mind. “Thank you for the ale.” She got up from the bar stool and headed up the stairs.

Sandor huffed and chugged down his ale before following her. _‘I don’t like that look. Little wolf has an idea that’s sure to get her killed. Fucking Starks, they think they’re all bloody heroes.’_

The two of them walked quietly down the hall to a dingy room with a cracked wooden door. Arya knocked twice, and then opened it. Jaime and Brienne were looking over maps of the Red Keep and talking quietly amongst themselves until the other two walked in.

“What happened?” The Lion of Lannister’s voice was flat; he was a warrior and he had seen too much death to not recognize it in another person’s face.

“Varys is dead.” Arya sat down on the rat-eaten mattress and ran her hands through her hair in frustration.

“Shit. How?” Jaime’s big blue eyes widened with fear and shock.

“Qyburn’s little birds must have caught wind about our operations over the past two weeks and they managed to track Varys and I when we were trying to smuggle the latest batch of wildfire out of the tunnels. He told me to run while he stayed behind to distract them.” Her voice tapered off into silence.

Brienne shuddered, knowing that the Spider was gone and likely killed in a very horrible way. “We should send a raven.”

“Will they get it in time?” Arya was skeptical about the idea.

The newly-minted knight sighed in defeat and hung her head. “No, probably not.”

“Where’s the map of the wildfire? Let’s look it over. We might be able to outwit Qyburn’s birds.” Jaime immediately stood up and grabbed the leather bag from Varys’s small wooden chest.

“Qyburn’s birds….” Arya bit her lip, a plan formulating in her mind. 

“Hmmm?” Jaime paused in his rummaging through the bag to look at her.

“I have an idea.”

“Oh boy.” Sandor rolled his eyes and sat down on a wooden chair next to the small table that Varys had used for his plotting.

“I’m going to kill Qyburn and take his face.”

All three companions stared at Arya as if she had five heads and the silence was so loud that you could have heard a pin drop.

“You’re going to do what now?” Jaime said just as Brienne started frantically shaking her head “no.”

“I trained with the Faceless Men, didn’t your little brother tell you that? I’m going to kill that deranged former master and trick your hellish sister.” Her dark grey eyes glinted dangerously.

Jaime opened his mouth to protest but given the look in her eyes, he thought better of it and shut up.

“You will get killed.” Brienne’s tone was almost maternal and Arya’s heart clenched as hazy memories of her mother Catelyn fretting over her surfaced.

“Doubtful. I’ve been studying the passageways, the guards, everything--because I wanted to be the one to send Cersei to the Many-Faced God.” Her tone was full of conviction and Brienne sighed, knowing that the young Stark wouldn’t budge on this.

“When will you perform this task?” The lady knight asked, scrubbing her face with her hands.

“In two day’s time. That will give me more than enough time to prepare.”

“Well, that’s decided. Now, where’s that damn map of the wildfire?” Sandor looked at Jaime expectantly.

The Lion of Lannister rolled his eyes at the Hound’s impatience as he reached into Varys’s bag and grabbed it from the outer pocket.

“Here you go.” The older man gently spread the map out on the table for everyone to read.

“Looks like we got most of it. Only three more to go.” Brienne mused as they looked it over.

“And they are all directly under the Red Keep. How delightful.” The grizzled warrior snorted.

“We’re going to have to tell William that tonight.” Arya pointed out, eyeing the map as a plan formulated in her mind as she looked through all of the secret passageways.

“Who wants to be the one to tell him?” The golden-haired knight asked dryly.

“I’ll do it, since you lot are too set on tip-toeing around your words.” The scarred warrior growled as he stood up and stretched.

Arya just rolled her eyes and sighed at her companion. “I’m going to take a walk, formulate my plans. I’ll see you later.” She stood up and grabbed her bag of faces before exiting the room.

Several hours later, the young assassin returned just in time to meet with William.

“I cannot stay,” he whispered as he walked upstairs with Arya.

“Don’t worry; this meeting will be quick.” She said as she opened the door to where Sandor, Jaime and Brienne were waiting.

Jaime pulled a chair out for the man and he gave him a quick smile as he sat down.

“We estimate that there’s only three barrels left…and they are right underneath the Red Keep. My sister certainly has been busy.” The golden-haired knight couldn’t resist taking a jab at Cersei.

“That will be difficult to remove; she has guards posted everywhere and she’s displayed Lord Varys’s head on a pike as a warning to the smallfolk.”

Arya smiled, showing off her pearly white teeth. “I have a plan. Leave it to me.”

The alchemist gulped and nodded, not wanting to argue with a lethal assassin that could kill him with one hand tied behind her back.

“We’ll be in touch in a few days.” The young Stark added as she clasped hands with the tall, dark-haired man.

“Good luck. May the Gods watch over you.” William murmured outside of the inn before slipping into the darkness that was filled with loud shouts from some of the drunk folks inside and the smell of roasting meat.

Arya smiled and went back inside, the final pieces of her plan falling into place inside of her head.


	34. Chapter 34

_‘Swift as a deer.’_ Arya recited to herself as she worked in the kitchens of the Red Keep, wearing her stolen face of a young serving girl that personally waited on the mad ex-maester himself.

“Nora? Nora! Quit day dreamin’ girl, the Hand of the Queen wants a meal. Best be quick about it child, he is in a foul mood like the Lioness bitch.” Lillian, the head cook bellowed through the commotion.

Arya-as-Nora dropped her head low and mumbled her acquiescence before taking the tray up to Qyburn’s chambers. The Hand of the Queen had his back turned towards the door as he was tinkering with some mechanism on a long table next to his desk.

 _‘Idiot.’_ Arya thought as he barely glanced over his shoulder and waved her towards a smaller table where a pitcher of wine was waiting. Qyburn was so absorbed in his project that his entire body jolted when Catspaw entered the left side of his abdomen and a tiny hand wrapped around his mouth and throat to muffle any potential screams.

White-hot fire erupted as the Valyrian steel dagger was pulled unforgivingly out of his body; Qyburn only had a precious few seconds to register the pain before the tiny hand of the serving girl clenched his nostrils shut. His lungs screamed for air as his life’s blood poured down all over his black robes, but the young assassin was relentless. 

The light was leaving Qyburn’s eyes and the last thing he saw before his spirit left his body was the face of a Northern woman grimly watching him, grey eyes glittering with resolve.

Once Arya was sure he was dead, she wiped off Catspaw and began the ritual of removing Qyburn’s face.

First came the chant, low and soft. Arya briefly thought back to a time when she would have stumbled over the words, but now she knew them like they were her own mother tongue. She deftly pulled a small container of oil around Qyburn’s face and began to remove the flesh from his skull. 

Once Arya was done, she removed the robes from the corpse and put them on. Next, she donned his face and slowly put the face of the serving girl onto Qyburn’s body before wrapping it up in long white sheets she spotted hanging from the closet.

“Guards!” Arya-as-Qyburn called out loudly. Two Lannister soldiers immediately answered the call.

“I have finished my experiment, can you please get rid of the corpse and send in some serving wench to clean this up?” She took a haughty tone as she indicated the puddle of blood.

“Of course.” The taller soldier said as they entered the room and quickly removed Qyburn’s corpse before taking off down the hallway, their armor clanking and clanging as they went. Arya closed the door and sighed with relief that her plan had worked.

 _‘Now to get rid of the wildfire…’_ She though as a knock was heard at the door; it was the serving girl she’d asked for.

“I am stepping out. Make sure this chamber is spotless by the time I get back.” She warned.

The timid blonde little girl visibly cowered and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Arya then walked quickly through the Red Keep until she reached the alchemists’ quarters and gently knocked on William’s door. His eyes went wide with fright but a quick wink from Arya reassured him that the real Qyburn was dead.

Once she was inside and the door was locked, she took off the Hand’s face. 

“Ugh. He feels so slimy.” The she-wolf complained.

The alchemist stared at her for a few moments and then laughed a bit. “Well, he was a worm in life, so I suppose that it is to be expected.”

Arya smirked. “Get your friends to move the last bit of the wildfire. If any of the little birds seem suspicious, I’ll come up with a plausible lie.”

The tall dark-haired man nodded. “Understood.”

Resuming Qyburn’s face as she left, she made sure to throw off any potential little birds off of her trail by loudly demanding that William take better care of the wildfire and post guards around the clock. Some of the servants flittering through the halls briefly paused and tried to pretend they weren’t listening, but Arya noticed the subtle gestures.

 _‘Ah, so there are the little birds.’_ She pointed at one.

“You. With me. Now.” Her tone brooked no opposition and the child spy broke under her stern gaze.

They walked back up to Qyburn’s now clean quarters; Arya imperiously sat the little boy down and looked him over. He was skinny as a twig with close-cropped black hair and big brown eyes; he wore tattered dark brown pants and a threadbare dark blue shirt. It broke her heart to manipulate the little one even further, but Arya reminded herself that all this was for the greater good.

“Ahh, little bird, I have important message for you to pass on to your flock. Let them know there is no need to do regular inspections for the caches of wildfire in the tunnels for I have discovered that the false queen will be here soon.”

The little boy didn’t say a word—he was clearly paralyzed by fear of Qyburn—but he nodded.

“Good. You are dismissed.” She glared down at him and he ran out of the room like a frightened hare.

Arya smirked when he was gone, pleased that her plan was going so well. _‘Winter will come for you Cersei, with fire and blood. We shall have our revenge.’_


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle for King's Landing begins

Daenerys Targaryen inhaled sharply as she looked around the now empty tent where she, her husband and their advisors had met for one last meeting before their army attacked King’s Landing.

“Are you ready?” Her husband’s thick Northern brogue brought her out of her reverie and she smiled.

“I am.”

The royal couple stepped out and quickly walked to where their dragons were waiting. The heavy armor they both wore gave more weight to their footfalls; their army stayed silent until they reached the spot where Drogon and Rhaegal stood.

Daenerys looked out at the sea of people while Jon squeezed her hand in a reassuring manner.

“My friends, my allies, my dear ones—we stood side-by-side during the War for the Dawn. We faced terrifying creatures and we looked Death right in the face—and we won.” She paused briefly. 

“The woman who sits in the Red Keep on the throne built by House Targaryen is mad, cruel and unfit to be queen—but she is only human. She can be defeated. It is time to show the Mad Lioness what a Dragon can do!” She shouted and the army started to cheer.

Jon took over the speech from then. “My Northmen, my Wildling friends, you have been with me since I was a Crow fighting against the White Walkers. I am a Wolf, and a Dragon—let us show them the ferocity of Winter. For my adopted father, Eddard Stark! For my cousin, Robb Stark, the King in the North! For my younger cousins, Brandon and Rickon Stark, we fight! Winter is coming!”

Both the Northmen and the wildlings started cheering even louder as their Southron men, Dothraki and Unsullied started stamping their feet in appreciation.

Rhaegal and Drogon gently laid down on the soft grass to let their riders climb on their backs; their armor was gleaming in the sunlight. The emerald green dragon looked out over the camp to where Missandei, Tyrion and the Dothraki that were staying behind were standing. The massive white direwolf stood by the side of the Naathi woman and Rhaegal trilled a note of farewell to his wolf brother.

Drogon on the other hand gave his new brother a dragon’s smile, to which Ghost responded with a wag of his tail as if to say “good luck.”

At the soft Valyrian whispers from their riders, both dragons took to the air and headed straight for King’s Landing.

Daenerys’s heart fluttered with pride as her army made their way to the city. Unsullied, Dothraki, Stormlanders, Martells, Northmen and Wildlings—all united under one banner.

The silver-haired queen glanced to the left, where her husband flew nearby and smiled. His face was stern and Jon was clearly preparing himself to engage in battle. The small rubies that had been quickly blessed by Morganna and embedded into the dragons’ armor glinted softly as night gave way to the Sun.

They flew silently and stopped just a few feet from King’s Landing. Daenerys could see some of the scorpions on the walls of the city and on the Red Keep.

She narrowed her eyes as Drogon gave a low growl. 

_‘Horrible things._ Her eldest son resisted the urge to shudder, but Daenerys could feel the revulsion thanks to their mental link.

_‘Yes, which is why we must take them out. Fly swiftly and true, my son. Morganna’s magic and our strategy will win us the day. Now dive!’_

Drogon and Rhaegal both pulled back their wings and plummeted straight towards the city. At their riders’ command, they pulled up quickly and flew around on either side of the city, burning the walls as they went.

 _‘Tyrion was right—the guards are all incredibly sleepy. Cersei must have had them up all night watching for an attack.’_ Daenerys felt a twinge of pity for them, but buried it deep inside her soul as Drogon kept setting the walls on fire.

She felt Drogon growl right before he pulled up into the clouds sharply—just in time to miss one of the bolts let loose by a manned scorpion.

 _‘Can we get close to take them out?’_ Daenerys asked her son.

He eyed the castle and gave her a mental nod. _‘We can.’_ With a snarl of fury, Drogon unleashed his fire towards the hated scorpions while sending a mental note for Rhaegal to be careful and to join him, if it was safe enough to do so.

The world dissolved into screams of terrified men and the sounds of the fire racing over the walls of the city.

Dimly, Daenerys heard the fierce war cries of the Dothraki and knew that her army had managed to enter the city. The sounds of war grew louder and the Dragon Queen saw the Golden Company charging at her men.

 _‘Brother and father dispatched the horrid things. No more are left. The humans screamed and ran away when they saw all the walls on fire.’_ Drogon’s mental voice was smug and Daenerys couldn’t help but chuckle at her son.

“Tell your brother and your father to come with us; it’s time for the Golden Company to see the Targaryen might.” She whispered, feeling Drogon pass the message along to her younger son through the mental link she shared with all of her children.

Thanks to the Red Witch’s magic, both Daenerys and Jon were seen by the enemy army as rather blurry and this worked to great effect as both of their dragons dove in unison before pulling up behind the Golden Company and unleashing their fury upon the unsuspecting soldiers.

Their trick worked—the Golden Company started screaming and running in different directions, which made it easy for the Targaryen army to cut them down.

As Daenerys and Jon flew here and there trying to scare the opposing army, both breathed a massive sigh of relief that Arya and the others had apparently succeeded in their quest to dismantle Cersei’s wildfire trick, for there was no sign of the deadly green flames anywhere.

 _‘Soon Cersei, you will no longer be allowed to torment and hurt people. The Mad Lioness will be put down.’_ Daenerys swore to herself as a fierce grin spread across her face.

Drogon purred his approval and let out another loud roar, which Rhaegal echoed. The sight of two triumphant dragons caused the Golden Company to throw down their weapons entirely and flee in varying directions.Some were either grabbed by Lannister soldiers or cut down by them; while the others were quickly taken captive by her soldiers. Daenerys couldn’t help but smirk a tiny bit.

_‘Serves them right…we tried to get them on our side but they didn’t believe in Jon’s true identity or the fact that there are now two Targaryen dragon riders. What fools.’_

She urged Drogon to fly near Rhaegal and Jon; together they briefly watched their army push Cersei’s back to the point that they had to retreat into the Red Keep itself. The two monarchs shared a look and nodded: it was time to take down Cersei herself.


End file.
